21st Century Renaissance
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50 ways to please your mother
(with apologies to Paul Simon; and A, D and N)

1.  When you slip out the back, take the rubbish with you. 
2.  Learn how to do your own laundry (see 3-11).
3.  Bring the dirty clothes to the washing machine. Put them in it.
4.  Put the powder in and start the machine (40º works for everything.)
5.  Come back later. Take the wet clothes out.
6.  Hang them out on the line to dry.
7.  Take them in from the line.
8.  Iron them or fold them.
9.  Put them away in your wardrobe.
10.  If it starts to rain during stage 6 move to stage 7.  When it has stopped raining repeat from stage 6.
11.  Wash your bed sheets. Hint: they are dirty when you can see the dirt.
12.  If you are four years old go to bed when she asks you to.
13.  If you are four years old and you are reading this, ask her to sign you up for a gifted children programme.
14.  If she asks for “three wedgies” in a loud voice in McDonalds explain to her what a wedgie means - and that it is not the same thing as the potato wedges on offer.
15.  Let her know her when words like hop, disco and dance are no longer in fashion.
16.  Teach her the difference between the album name and the group name of the latest bands.
17.  Make a new plan when you leave school/college/job/girl/boy/home.
18.  Try gardening - with or without her.
19.  Learn what a waste paper bin is for.
20.  Use the wastepaper bin(s).
21.  Don’t eat too much.
22.  Don’t eat too little.
23.  Don’t sleep too much.
24.  Don’t sleep too little.
25.  Don’t shower too much (it costs too much).
26.  Don’t shower too little (particularly if you are a teenage male).
27.  Avoid unwashed long hair/dreadlocks. She won’t cope well.
28.  Don't cut your hair too short.
29.  You don’t need to be coy - offer her feedback as a parent. She gives you feedback all the time, whether you want it or not.
30.  Find a job you love and set yourself free.
31.  Find a job you love and put a bridge over her troubled waters.
32.  If you and Julio were in trouble down at the school-yard tell her the truth before the principal does.
33.  If you are thirteen or older stop telling her everything.
34.  Let her know how twitter works (see 35).
35.  Be very concerned when she tells you that she once asked in a coffee shop if a small picture of a bird alongside @kaphsc.ie meant that their email address was [email protected].
36.  Make her a meal. She’ll almost die of gratitude.
37.  Ditto if you voluntarily vacuum/sweep/clean the toilet/shop/tidy/empty the dishwasher.
38.  Unplug your chargers.
39.  Turn off the lights.
40.  Admit it if you scratched the car.
41.  Don't go faster than 25kmph if she’s teaching you to drive. She’s terrified. See 42.
42.  When she gasps and flinches (on the passenger side) - it’s not about you. Just you as a baby driver.
43.  Bear in mind she changed your nappy for years. You may have to change hers sometime.
44.  If you are over 30 and still living at home, leave home. ASAP.
45.  Help preserve her dignity when she stops making sense. This is her world now.
46.  Understand that at a certain age every caring bone is leaving her body: she may no longer care about whether your stomach is full or not.
47.  Indulge her fondness for her first album - even if it is Cat Steven’s Tea for the Tillerman.
48.  If it is Wednesday morning at 3am, don’t call home.
49.  If you are a student who has just moved out think carefully before sending her the text: “Hi Mum, just wondering how to make a French dressing. We have olive oil, balsamic vinegar, French mustard and honey. Can anything be done with these?” She may reconsider your allowance and you will have to move back home.  You may also receive shouty texts from her with a lot of capital letters about her NOT KNOWING what balsamic vinegar was when SHE was a POOR student.
50.  Even if you’re not called Betty, she won’t mind it if you call her Al.


Alison Hackett 15 March 2015

Reviews

The Visual Time Traveller
This is a labour of love, insanity, beauty and, perhaps, an attempt to reintegrate history, art and science together again.
  Simon Cocking Irish Tech News

Crabbing
Her range of language is both staccato and soft, in succinct verse, which encourages you to read this aloud, truly the best way to engage in the emotional depth of a poem. 
​
Deirdre Conroy Sunday Independent

Poetic Licence in a Time of Corona

​Your poems tell us all we need to know Ryan Tubridy, RTE Radio podcast
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  • home
  • about
    • blog 2014-2020 >
      • I first met Arnie
      • Do you ever get the feeling
      • Sisyphus May
      • Brexit bulldog
      • revision notes the 8th amendment
      • one billboard outside dublin
      • save the 8th or save ireland
      • Letter from Mysuru
      • Letter from India i
      • raining on our parade
      • twitter harakiri
      • am I a writer?
      • come on the Guardian
      • I hope the BBC was reading too
      • brace yourselves gentlemen
      • time to air a dirty little Irish secret
      • Let them eat brioche
      • id ego superego in a venn diagram
      • The physics chanteuse
      • The Untouchables (with apologies to Eisenstein)
      • Depressed. I think my new boyfriend is a chatbot.
      • Election grief
      • Help I'm on too many platforms
      • The questions I would have asked at the leaders' debate
      • a selection from one of my platforms
      • Shhh! It's the Angelas
      • Politics 21st Century
      • The Fumbally Fairy Story
      • My alternative vision at the save our seafront meeting
      • A fond memory of the ferry to Dun Laoghaire
      • the second book deal
      • redacted letters in an artwork
      • the unprinted letters part i
      • a photo blog from Cefalu
      • My 2116 vision (including women in power)
      • Rear Admiral Lunchalot (guest blog)
      • Dun Laoghaire and the cruise ships >
        • An American visitor's thoughts
      • Eclipsed
      • 50 ways to please your mother
      • To tweet or not to tweet
      • Protestant angst
      • The New TD
      • Having the Twitters
      • The democracy box
      • LGBTH?
      • The book signing
      • Dining out on Hong Kong
      • The British Isles happy family
      • Dear UK, Love from Ireland
      • Art that almost moved me to tears
      • Your smart big brother
      • The card that Sappho was dealt
      • it's a relative question
      • My liver belongs to you
      • a melting pot of Irishness (in our new passport)
      • The Dialogue, with apologies to Galileo
      • Sartorial surveillance by An Garda
    • letters >
      • 2026
      • 2021 to 2022
      • 2019 to 2020
      • 2018
      • 2010 to 2017
    • Poetry >
      • Cocooned
      • Fragile
      • Fisherman_Kerala
      • The last two pots of marmalade
      • Untitled
      • fledgling
      • cast adrift
      • Poets and their editors down in the school yard
      • I am Eire
      • Aisling
      • Your children are not your children
      • Where you lie
      • The family that...
      • Two doves
      • They told me Heraclitus they told me you were dead
      • Gone
      • Terms & Conditions
      • Crabbing
      • Cold day
      • Gift
      • When I am dead my dearest
    • articles >
      • Cruise ships in Dun Laoghaire harbour a Titanic mistake
      • An Irishwoman's Diary
      • On Dun Laoghaire (and walking the pier)
      • Typos
      • The Institute of Psychics?
      • The Physics PR Minefield
      • When Design Matters
  • shop