The circle of life is well and truly alive in the extended O’Shea family tree when it comes to being able to fight with brothers and sisters. Picture: iStock.
Saying 'I’m bored' 400 times a day during the summer holidays
It wasn’t my parents’ fault that Ireland had a chronic unemployment problem in the 80s and early 90s. I eventually got a job on a nearby farm when I turned 13, but up until then I was a nightmare.
There were no Xboxes or Nintendo Switches. I distinctly remember long summer days daydreaming that Alf, the lovable sitcom character, would descend from the heavens and be a distraction until September.
Every time I would complain to my mother that I was “soooooo booooored”, she would always come back with: “Well, if you’re bored, I’ve plenty of jobs around here you can do.”
A phrase I have employed myself at least 100 times this summer to my own kids. So for all the times I slammed doors and screamed something incomprehensible, I apologise.
Asking ‘what’s for dinner?’ and then being annoyed by the answer
There are days when I cook three dinners. Each child wants something different. I swear if it wasn’t for the air fryer, I don’t think there are times when they’d eat at all. My mother thinks it’s insane.
There were four kids, my parents, and my granny all in a small house growing up. If you didn’t like your dinner, you didn’t eat dinner.
But there were several times a week when I’d ask: “Maaa, what’s for dinner?” and when an answer came back I didn’t like, I’d be a pain in the arse.
Now, all these years later, when I put the dinner in front of my kids and they mumble: “I don’t like that”, I just walk away and do an extensive breathing triage to calm my nervous system.
The next time it happens, I’m going to leave bows and arrows on the kitchen table and tell them to hunt their dinners themselves. For all the times, Mum, I huffed at your stew, I apologise.
This is why I’m losing my hair. Every day, every hour, every minute, one of my kids asks the following: Where are my shoes? Where is my gum shield? Where is my Ireland jersey? Where is my charger for my Switch?
The list is effectively everything they own and, more importantly, everything that is theirs. I tried the traditional “Why would I know where YOUR (insert whatever they haven’t even started to look for) is?"
But they don’t even listen to that retort anymore. I’ve had near nervous breakdowns on school runs where shoes can’t be found, or water bottles mysteriously disappear.
