Work Text:
“Oisín! Oisín! Come quickly!”
“What's up? What's wrong?”
“I'm only after breaking my toe.”
“Jesus, Mum!”
“Language, Oisín!”
“Sorry, it's just… are you OK?”
“I'll be fine. I'll walk it off.”
“Mum, no!”
“It’s nothing, it’ll sort itself out.”
“Mum! We need to get you to a doctor.”
“Ah, nonsense. Stop fussing, Oisín.”
“I’ll call 999.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort!”
“But Mum!”
“An ambulance? For a broken toe?”
“A taxi then.”
“I’ll not need a taxi because I’m not going to A&E. €100 for them to tell me what I already know? No, you’ll pop to the pharmacy for me like a good lad, get me what I need.”
“Ok, but at least put your feet up.”
“I've got things to do, Oisín! I'm a busy woman with a job to do and a house to keep, goodness knows your father's never around to help and if I've ever seen you lift a finger it's a sure admission of a guilty mind. I’ve not got time for a broken toe.”
“I can… I guess… I’ll take care of the house for you, Mum. Until you’re back on your feet.”
“Oh, now there’s a good boy. I’ll give you a list when you get back from the pharmacy.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Oh and whilst you’re there, nip into the shop and pick up a bag of frozen peas and some Magnums. White, if they have them.”
“Is that really a priority right now? Can’t we live without peas for a couple of days?”
“They’re for my toe, Oisín. To ice it.”
“Oh. What about the Magnums?”
“I’ve broken my bleeding toe, Oisín, can I not have a treat?”
—
“There, that’s better. I’ll be right as rain in no time. Thank you, Oisín, you’re such a good boy.”
“It’s nothing, Mum. I’m just glad you’re ok. You scared me. Are you comfortable?”
“As can be, in the circumstances. You couldn’t pass me the blanket, could you?”
“Uh, sure. Here.”
“No, not that one, the chenille.”
“Which one’s that?”
“The duck egg blue.”
“Duck egg?”
“It’s a colour, Oisín. Light blue.”
“Why didn’t you just say that? Here.”
“Oh that’s the last thing I need right now, hand me the phone, I’ll call the optometrist, see if they can fit you in tomorrow?”
“You what?”
“You’ve clearly something affecting your vision, I asked for the duck egg blue and you’ve given me the celestine.”
“You said light blue!”
“Duck egg blue’s got a green undertone. Perhaps I should call your school, see if I can have a word with your art teacher…”
“Mum! Just tell me which blanket you want.”
“The duck egg blue chenille. You know the one, you gave it to me for Christmas.”
“I… did?”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Oisín, it’s the one on the armchair.”
“Why couldn’t you have just said that from the beginning!?”
—
“Oisín pet, will you come here?”
“What is it, Mum?”
“Could you change the CD?”
“Course. What do you want?”
“I would like, Oisín, a little Mozart.”
“Which one?”
“I think I fancy a Little Night Music.”
“Which one’s that?”
“What do you mean, which one’s that?”
“They’re all called, like, Symphonies Numbers 35, 40 and 41 or Piano Concertos Numbers Whatever.”
“Well it’s called A Little Night Music.”
“It’s not here.”
“Of course it’s there.”
“It’s not!”
“It must be there. I play it all the time.”
“It’s not here!”
“Oh just let me come and… there. That one.”
“That doesn’t say a Little Night Music! That says Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.”
“Jesus! And he’s studying German for his leaving cert.”
“I didn’t know it would be in German, Mum.”
“Making me walk all the way over here on my bad toe… Never mind your art teacher, I’ll be ringing your German teacher in the morning, Sunday be damned! Can’t understand Eine Kleine Nachtmusik I ask you.”
“You didn’t tell me it would be in German!”
“He’s Austrian, Oisín, what’s it going to be in, Patagonian Welsh?”
—
“Oisín! Oisín!”
“Yes?”
“Can you skip this track? I’ve never had time for this minuet.”
“You’ve got the remote, Mum.”
“Ah but the batteries are flat.”
“I’ll change them for you.”
“It’s ok, you’re here now, just skip the track like a good boy.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Now don’t forget, you’ve to get the dinner on soon.”
“Uh, ok. I’m not really a great cook… is it easy?”
“Oh there’s nothing to it. I’ll sit at the table with my foot up, talk you through it.”
“Ok… What are we having?”
“Fish pie.”
“I hate fish!”
“You’ll eat it.”
“Can’t I make something else? Anything else?”
“I’d already got the fish defrosting.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to make me cook fish.”
“Broken toe or no, you were always going to have fish pie tonight.”
“Ye, but making me cook it is just sadistic. Whilst you’re at it, shall I grab a spade, go and dig my own grave?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
—
“Oisín! Oisín!”
“Yes, Mum?”
“When are you going to Tesco?”
“Tesco?”
“Yes, Oisín, Tesco. You said you’d do the shop.”
“I said I’d go to the shops, not do the whole shop.”
“Well I can hardly do it can I, pet, not with my toe now.”
“Can’t Dad do it?”
“He’ll be late back. I’ve written the shopping list out for you.”
“How am I going to get to Tesco? Can’t I just go to the convenience store?”
“Not if you want an inheritance one day, there’ll be nothing left if we’re paying O’Riley’s prices for fish fingers!”
“We could just not pay any price for fish fingers. We could not buy fish fingers.”
“They’re for your tea tomorrow. Besides, there’s things I need you’ll not get outside of Tesco. Finn O’Riley wouldn’t know a Chantenay carrot if it was on the side of a bus. And last time I bought his prawns I was ill for days.”
“Because you’re allergic to prawns! And I hate prawns! We could just not get prawns.”
“They’re on the list, Oisín. You’ll get them.”
“How am I going to get there? I can’t cart all this back on my bike, this is going to be bags and bags and bags, and it’s two changes on the bus, it’ll take hours.”
“We’ll drive.”
“Drive? You can’t drive, Mum! You’re supposed to be off your feet.”
“No, you’re driving.”
“I haven’t got my licence!”
“You’ve got your permit.”
“Ye, my permit. I can’t drive on my own.”
“You’ll not be on your own, I’ll be with you.”
“I’ll get the bus.”
—
“Right. It’s taken me all weekend, but I’m done with the list of jobs. At last I get to put my feet up too.”
“I’ll get you page 2, will I?”
“Page… 2? There’s a page 2?”
“Of course there’s a page 2. You didn’t think this was all I do? You’ve not disinfected the bins; weeded the begonias; polished the mirrors; grafted the apple trees; hoovered the coving; insulated the attic; scrubbed the drainpipes; deep cleaned the washing machine; rotated the mattresses; beaten the rugs...”
“Well, no, I suppose not. But I thought maybe, you know, in the circumstances, maybe the mirrors could go a day or two without polishing?”
“It’ll build up if you don’t stay on top of it. I could not look myself in the face in a house with a dull mirror, Oisín.”
“I’ll show you how to put your phone on selfie mode.”
“Never mind that, now fetch the window cleaner - not the light blue bottle, mind, that’s just for the front windows and the guest bathroom, actually you'll need that too of course, but there’s a bottle that's more of a cyan, that's for the rest of the house.”
“And when I’ve done all that, assuming I’m not claiming my pension by then. Then can I put my feet up?”
“Then I’ll give you page 3. Would it be easier if I made a spreadsheet? I’m going out of my mind with boredom with nothing to do, I could whip up a spreadsheet in no time. Saves me doling them out one page at a time. I could colour code it, you could filter by room, equipment, expected duration, weather conditions…”
“This is going to take me forever!”
“How lucky it’s the Easter holidays, then.”
“Lucky. Ye.”
“You’d no plans, had you?”
“I had plans! Play computer, hang out with Barry, play football…”
“You can do all that in the summer holidays.”
“...maybe do my homework.”
“I’ll take bleaching the grout off page 17. That’ll leave you time for your homework.”
“Oh good.”
“You’re such a good boy, helping your poor mum out whilst she’s off her feet. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Pay someone a decent wage?”
“Oisín!”
“Sorry, Mum. Mum, how long is this going to last? When can you put weight on your toe again?”
“Well the HSE said I can return to exercise after six to eight weeks.”
“Six to eight weeks? Oh, Mummmm!”