Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Strolling Salvifically

Informal, anecdotal research indicates that the mothers of Ireland are strolling to heaven. Literally. In a quaint throwback to the 1950s, Ireland's mums are seen strolling the walkways, sidewalks, or even treacherous byways with a kid in a stroller, one in the belly, and two or three by their side. Oddly, the fathers of Ireland have yet to be seen performing this herculean, or is it venusian, feat, (or feet, is it?), worthy of being feted.

Seems like the "barefoot and pregnant" road to salvation of the no-contraceptive, certifiably Catholic 1950s remains firmly paved.

My point (forgive me -- my blogging English is a bit rusty; all the signs in Ireland are in both English and Irish Gaelic, so I'm a bit off, more than usual):

Never once do I recall seeing a father pushing a stroller, even with one tyke. Or walking along with their children. The closest I saw was two parents together letting their red-haired kid roam about The Left Bank Restaurant in Sligo, where oddly the phone booth outside our B&B was blown up, presumably by firecrackers, the night we were there.

Now, I'm not the perfect father but I always enjoyed interacting with my children (still do), and stroling with them or pushing them in a stroller was a happy part of that. Still is.

The booming economy of Ireland is called the Celtic Tiger.

Make that Celtic Tigress, no?

Fathers of Ireland, are you at work? Why have I not seen you strolling with ye offspring by ye Irish springs?

Maybe I've got it all wrong.

Maybe before I leave to return to the States on Thursday I'll see legions of lads pushing prams, surrounded on each arm by the future of their land.

Or else legions of fellows watching football in a pub.

Or strolling with mobile phones in their ear, sans kids.

News flash: Pope Benedict XVI has just granted sainthood to the Mothers of Ireland. En masse. Just like that, after reading an advance copy of this blog.

It's stunning, the power I perpetrate through this vain venue.

Laugh. Or...
Else.

9 comments:

azgoddess said...

not laughing but you got a smile outta me - grin

it's interesting -- that the reason you site is the country religion...interesting

mutleythedog said...

I would quite like to be a saint - could you put in a word for me - ST MUTLEYTHEDOG Patron of lamposts!!

Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing ...it's soo true...!!!

mist1 said...

I was nominated for sainthood last year, but then the Pope read my blog.

sigh

Glamourpuss said...

Irish men are notoriously feckless (original meaning not contemporary slang). That said, when I was last in Dublin, I was very struck by the number of young couples out strolling with Asian babies in pushchairs. According to Dubliner pal, there is an adoption crisis in Ireland - not enough babes to go round.

pissed off patricia said...

Same here in the states where I live. Last weekend I had to run to the mall for something. It seemed every woman there had a baby cart in front of her and a couple more little kids beside her. No daddy to be seen

JR's Thumbprints said...

Hey, come to Detroit. Play the odds. Three daddies for every mum. Five bucks says you'll see no dads pushing strollers.

Sheila said...

haha! great stuff. I love reading your blog. It always makes me laugh!

Anonymous said...

in my opinion, i see LOTS of dads who are over 30 w/ their kids. when it comes to parents under 30 (which seems to be under 20...there's a huge gap where they just don't pop any kids out) it's always the mom, the mom's best girl friend, 17 of their kids, all 19 smoking cigarettes, and while walking by, one always hears a great quote. such as....

kid throws stone...
mom watches, takes drag from ciggy, exhales, sees me looking, mumbles,
"don't be t'rowin' stones!" and takes another drag...proud of her excellent parenting skills.

the dads are in the pubs, w/o any idea there are 17 nicotine addicts throwing stones.
-macoosh:)