I am more than a little concerned about Nanni. She keeps appearing when you least expect her, then disappearing again all of a sudden.
This is Faris, of course, but I
imagine you have already reached that conclusion, all on your own. I thought I'd better dash off a hasty blog or two because heaven only knows where Nanni is at the moment, following her latest disappearing trick.
Take last Monday, for example. Daddy and I had driven to Ally Canty airport from our holiday home and guess who was there? Yep, you have it in one. It was Nanni, large as life and twice as, well, excitable. She said she didn't know I would be coming
to meet her and I didn't like to say that it was news to me, too. It was true that Mummy had been chuntering on about someone coming to stay and, now I come to think of it, she may well have mentioned Nanni but to be honest I have just had so much to occupy
me over the last couple of weeks. Of which, much more later...
Then today, Sunday, Nanni disappeared. I felt a bit bad because I was so tired, having got up rather too early for my own good, that I didn't
understand when she gave me a hug and a kiss and told me to remember that she loved me that she was going to disappear. I only realised she was gone when we arrived at the beach and she wasn't there to play the "Oh, no!" game. Have you ever played this game?
I made it up but it was Nanni who called it the "Oh, no!" game. Here's how you play it. You take an object of some importance to you. We used a small plastic blue and yellow watering can which Daddy bought from the Chinese Shop. Nanni says it is better to
use an unbreakable object though IMHO that spoils the fun. Anyway the watering can did occasionally come apart, even though it didn't actually break, so I suppose you could describe this as a compromise between my view and Nanni's on the Relative Importance
Anyway, back to the game. The first person (this is always me) throws the watering can into the waves and yells: "Oh, no!" At which Nanni or Daddy (they both seem to enjoy playing this game)
has to chase through the waves to recover the watering can and hurl it back onto the sandy beach. Sometimes they also call out "Oh, no!" Or something similar. It depends how out of breath they are. Daddy is pretty fit, of course, but Nanni isn't, having reached
A Great Age. I can play this game for hours and if Nanni tries to sit down on the picnic blanket and cuddle one of the Twinkles or help herself to a prawn cocktail sandwich, I just take hold of a finger and drag her back into the sea. She always comes. She
is very accommodating, is Nanni.
One day, back at our holiday villa, I tried to introduce an alternative modus operandi to the "Oh, no!" game and made off down the road towards the swimming pool with Nanni
in hot pursuit. In my hands the "O" from the alphabet mat which Nanni and I had put together on the only rainy morning of our whole holiday and Nanni's house keys. She had almost caught up with me as I reached the pool so I had to fling the letter and keys
right over the wall and into the pool. "Oh, no!" yelled Nanni. She obviously forgot that was supposed to be my line. She had to roll up her trousers and wade into the pool to retrieve the letter and the keys. I thought this was seriously funny but for some
reason Nanni wasn't willing to play anymore. She told me that if she hadn't retrieved the house keys she would have had to sit out on the doorstep and wait for Grandad to arrive home. When you consider that she makes the Giant Penguin sit out on the doorstep
in all weathers waiting for her grandchildren to arrive, I think you will agree that this smacks of Double Standards.
I am also a little concerned that Nanni has been laundering money. It all started when
she tucked a €10 note into the pocket of her shorts in case she wanted to buy anything, only to forget all about it until the next morning, by which time Mummy had put the shorts in the washing machine with all the rest of the laundry. I am pretty sure
that money laundering is illegal so I think someone ought to break this to Nanni before she finds herself in Hot Water. Like her €10 Euro note, now I come to think of it.
Every day, before dinner, Nanni
spoke to Grandad on the phone. Yesterday she took the phone and a glass of red wine up to the roof terrace so that she could watch the sun go down over the mountains while chatting. I wasn't allowed up on the roof terrace. I don't know why, I think it would
have offered a good many opportunities for Wreaking Havoc, being so high up and all. But when I made as if to follow Nanni up the winding staircase, Mummy said: "Oh, no!"
Some people just don't play the game...