Tag Archives: galway

Bad Parenting – Two Stories

Brad got an unexpected day off today so after sorting a few bits out with the new car we headed off to Galway city. I wanted to get a tee-shirt for Monday night, do some shopping and grab some lunch with my devilishly handsome husbear.

During lunch – a seafood salad for me and fish & chips for him for those of you interested – we decided to go to the cinema. We still hadn’t seen Spider-man: Far From Home so off we went.

It’s be out a while so we expected the cinema to be empty even with it being the school holidays. We were wrong. It was full of kids.

And here’s where the stories begin…

Story One – Donaldina Trump comes to Galway.

The usual row we sit in was taken so we went to the one behind that. Two young lads in front of us, two young girls and their mother behind us. Turned out the lads also belonged to this mother.

It wasn’t long before the young girl behind me was kicking my chair. She didn’t kick it on purpose but was resting her feet on the back of my chair. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem but these chairs have a recline rocker in them so as you sit back the chair reclines back. Her kicking it pushed it forward.

I let the first kick go assuming she knew she’d done it and wouldn’t do it again.

I let the second kick go, assuming it was an accident.

I didn’t let the third kick go. Instead I very calmly, as Brad will attest to, turned around and politely, while smiling, said “would you mind not kicking the back of my chair?” She apologised and we left it at that.

Ten minutes later she did it again and I let it go. Thinking again this could jut be an innocent accident and if I’d turned and said anything she’d be embarrassed.

A few minutes later it happened again. So I turned around and calmly said “As I asked before could you please not kick the back of my chair.”

The mother, who was sat next to her, spouted “They’re little girls! They move!”
“And I’ve asked them not to kick the back of my chair!” was my calm reply.

At this point it didn’t matter what I said she was determined to stand her ground. “Is this the lesson you want to teach you kids?” I asked – calmly!
“Yes!” she replied.
“That’s great parenting.”

She was still blabbering on as the film started and people started shushing her.

I have a small hope that she’ll see my tweets or read this entry (I don’t think she’ll do either) and get outraged because I think she’s the sort. I have an even smaller hope that she’s at home saying “I shouldn’t have spoken to those nice boys like that. I was a fucking bitch!” Again, I don’t think she is.


Story Two – It may as well have been a Nokia 8210.

With the film already on for five minutes people we’re still coming in – something that annoys me greatly. Three people came in and sat next to us. A young girl, a teenager and who I imagine to be the mother of both. The teenage sits next to Brad. We’ll call her Imbcelia.

So Imbcelia, gets her phone out and starts looking at Instagram and other apps on her phone. At some point I’m guessing staff at the Eye Cinema read my twitter feed – I tagged them after all – and a member of staff came in. She saw Imbcelias phone lighting up her monobrow like the cover had been taken off a Nokia 8210 so she told her to put it away.

As soon as the staff left out comes the phone again. So Brad leans over and asks her politely to put it away. She apologised and moved seats to the end of the row. Out comes the phone and off she goes again!

The movie ends and as it’s Marvel movie we stay exactly where we are and judge those leaving without seeing the mid-credit and end credit scenes.

Guess who gets up to leave? Yep, Imbcelia and her family. Young girl first, mom second, bitch last. So does she leave quietly without incident? Does she buggery! She shines her phone torch in Brad’s eyes and makes some childish comment about enjoying the rest of the film.

What was the point in that and why didn’t the mother do anything?

We’re adults, we’re the ones who have to set examples. Kids will see how we behave and learn from it! To the two mothers today, think about what you’re doing! Think about the example you’re setting your children. Today you were not being good parents. Be better!

And to Imbcelia – in my head, you left the cinema, stopped outside and while lighting up a fag as you walked past the pet shop your boyfriend and father rang (same person) causing you to drop your phone, smashing the glass. Fuck you, skank!

P.S. If you’re wondering why in the first story I was kept using the word calm and it’s variations it’s because, as Brad points out, usually I wouldn’t be so relaxed and polite.


It is Pride week.

After last years brilliant Pride but fucked up committee I really hope this one goes off well.

I’ve had a couple of issues with some committee members but personally I think I’ve been a good chairperson. Time will tell I suppose.

The majority of the committee have been great. Very helpful and a pleasure to work with.

Here’s to Galway Pride 2017, and all who sail in her.

The girl on the bridge

When we first moved to Ireland various friends came to visit us. One of them was Rowena. We took her around Galway and one afternoon while walking along the side of the Corrig we noticed a girl sat on the wall over looking the river and a man holding on to her. At first glance it looked like it was innocent playful fun between two happy lovers. Looking again it was as though he was trying to get us to walk on and ignore him which instantly set alarm bells ringing in my head. Looking again, just to try and clarify what was going on the man finally got my full attention. He was in fact holding on to her as she was about to throw herself in!

I’ve got no idea how long he was there for, holding on to her, but I grabbed hold of her other arm and together we got her off the wall and on to the floor at which point she broke down into floods of tears and tried to tell us how there was no point to anything and we should have just let her do it. The man walked off!

We walked her around the corner towards the hotel, not really knowing what I was going to do but knowing that I couldn’t leave her there and had to get her away from the water. We set on the steps and I gestured to Brad in sign to get the Garda. I really didn’t know who else to call other than an ambulance and I wasn’t going to waste their time with this.

I sat on the steps with this young girl, my arm round her, not trying to probe but just trying to be a friendly face. She sat there crying and told me to go.
“Do you want me to go?” I asked.
“I don’t want to spoil your day!” she sobbed.
“Oh don’t worry about me, I’ve got nothing to do!” I lied. I told Brad that he and Row could go on if they wanted and I’d call them when the Garda didn’t need or want me anymore.

The Garda were great. Well, one of them was. The lead Garda was brilliant, the other chap was a bit useless.

“What’s your name?” asked the lead Garda to which she blubbed out a reply I couldn’t really understand.
“How old you?”
“15,” she said.

My head was reeling! What on earth could have happened to a 15 year old girl to get her to this level. He asked her where she lived and where he parents were and for some reason (I can only think it’s because she wanted to be away from them) they were nearly two hours away from Galway. The Garda explained to her that they were going to take her to the station but she wasn’t in trouble, it was just so that she could get a hot drink, get warm, and maybe have a chat with the doctor. She kept blubbing that she didn’t want to and that we should just let her jump into the Corrib. Turns out she as pregnant and with no abortion laws in Ireland there was little she couldn’t do. She didn’t want her parents knowing.

I sat there with her for another five minutes or so, not trying to get her to talk as it as obvious she was in no mood to talk things out, but generally just replying to any statements she made. The patrol car arrived and selfishly the first thought that entered my head was that it meant I could now enjoy the rest of my day with Row and Brad. The Garda asked me for my details and thanked me for my help. He’d been talking to her while trying to keep strangers and by-passers away and it was damn obvious he’d had some form of counselling trainer.

I often wonder what happened to her.