Latest news with #Mammy
Irish Examiner
a day ago
- General
- Irish Examiner
Julie Jay: Trips to the dentist can often be a kick in the teeth
THIS week, Number One and I marched off to the dentist. It was a new dentist, because we like to keep things interesting, and the surgery was located in the business quarter of downtown Tralee. Once Mammy had worked out the parking situation (why does everything involve downloading an app?), we arrived, a little late, but arrived nonetheless, into our new dental practice and immediately got the feeling that we had happened upon a pretty fancy spot. So fancy was it that I also instantly felt underdressed and regretted not washing my face in advance. Our new dentist's reception area is so instantly soothing, I was almost envious of the patients waiting for a root canal. The sparkling floors scream, 'We don't reuse toothpicks here,' while the funny ornaments, depicting old-school dentists, complete with monocles, tell us this dentist also knew how to have fun. As Number One played with the dentures model in the foyer, I couldn't help but think back to when I was a child and going to these types of appointments myself. My dad always said that, as a parent, he was so proud he had given us good teeth and good manners, and, to be fair, there are worse metrics for parenting. As an adult, I can confidently say I haven't been as diligent with my teeth as my parents were when they were looking after them. As a self-employed comedian, it is easy to let these things slide, because, these days, going to the dentist, like double-quilted toilet paper, can sometimes feel like a bit of a luxury. Yet as I sat perusing leaflets on gum disease, I vowed, there and then, to start re-visiting the dentist again, but not before I finally started flossing. After all, what is the point of even having the VHI if you can't treat yourself to the utter joy of having a stranger suck the spit out of your mouth? To experience a clean after a filling is to truly feel alive, especially when you are trying to justify health insurance. Of course, I never volunteer the fact I have health insurance, because the last time I attempted to do so, I gleefully told a doctor's secretary 'I have HIV'. Needless to say, this is a very different thing from VHI and provokes a very different response. When we were called into the dentist's surgery, we had to venture to the third floor, and Number One and I were almost getting dizzy as we climbed the stairs, because, to us, this was skyscraper levels of skyline. The dental chair, as ever, was a big hit: It went up, it went down; it was basically the amusements, but cheaper. Donning a pair of darkened goggles, which gave him a real Blues Brothers effect, Number One was loving life as the light was lowered and the dentist went in for a gander. We got on great, bar learning there was a bit of damage to one tooth, which the dentist put down to too much sugar, and, honestly, it took all I had not to start self-flagellating on the spot. 'Does he drink a lot of fizzy drinks?' she asked, and I baulked. He has never had a fizzy drink, ever, I insisted, and I was being totally truthful. 'Sweets, maybe?' She asked, and again I almost fell off my chair — admittedly an easy thing to do, given it was a swivel. He very rarely has sweets. I never buy them, and have a total aversion to those neon packets of tooth-killers that lurk around checkout tills. Hardly ever, I said, and again there was no lie detected. 'Cakes? Biscuits?' She probed, and this time my answer was a little more vague. The truth is, I love a baked treat, procuring either a doughnut from the bakery or a croissant from the shop on a near-daily basis. Most days, especially when on my own with the children, my baked treat is the only thing that keeps me going, and because Number 1 is always by my side, it feels cruel not to see him indulge in a little bun as well. FEELING my face flush a little, I made a noise that announced my guilt. The dentist, to her credit, refrained from chastising, but instead reminded me that the constant grazing is what impacts teeth, something which really clicked with me, because when it comes to my children, the truth is, I am constantly feeding them. I live in continual fear that if they don't get offered some class of snack every 30 minutes, they will report me to the relevant authorities: That is, Nana. Armed with some tips for cleaning our teeth, Number One happily descended the stairs, skipping along and telling anyone who would listen he had just been to the dentist and 'got on great'. He received a special gold star for being the best patient of the day, a coveted title and something we have been working towards for a long, long time. Thankfully, all those practice sessions of dentist-patient role play at home finally paid off, and we could take the gold home. As I bundled Number One into his car seat, he told me Daddy had taught him a good joke that he had forgotten to tell the dentist, so I asked him to share it with me, because I always need material. 'What is the dentist's favourite boat?' He asked, before giving it a beat. 'A tooth ferry!' He declared. And I couldn't help but giggle, because it is a pretty good joke. At that moment, I spot the traffic warden. 'We just made it by the skin of our teeth,' I say to Number One, who ignores me and plays with his gum disease leaflet. If there's one thing that's for sure, you're never too long in the tooth for a pun.
The Irish Sun
14-07-2025
- Sport
- The Irish Sun
‘Still trying to get Mammy home' – RTE's Des Cahill hops on Donegal bandwagon as wife roars them on at Croke Park
DUB Des Cahill will still have a strong rooting interest in this year's All-Ireland football final due to his wife Caroline being from Donegal. And if there was any doubt as to whether he'd fully embrace hopping on the bandwagon, the below photo from 2 Look-alike son Paul is also firmly behind Jim McGuinness' men Credit: @sportsdes 2 They demolished Meath by 3-26 to 0-15 on Sunday The former Sunday Game host captioned it: "Still trying to get the Mammy home..!! "Donegal were excellent, but fair play to Meath - they've given their supporters a summer to remember!" Twelve months since Jim McGuinness admitted that his side 'ran out of steam' in their bid to reach the All-Ireland SFC final, Donegal delivered the goods as they charged towards a first showpiece since 2014 like a freight train. In the wake of Read More On GAA But having seen his team hit 3-13 after the change of ends at a packed The Royals have already tasted unlikely Championship victories over Dublin, Kerry But Robbie Brennan's superb first season at the helm was brought to an end in chastening fashion. Even at half-time, things looked ominous for Meath as they trailed by 0-13 to 0-8. With a Sam Maguire decider Most read in GAA Football Murphy made way just moments after kicking his side into an eight-point lead. By then, the Ulster champions had also bagged the first of three second-half goals. Donegal can now look forward to a first All-Ireland final appearance since the defeat to the Kingdom 11 years ago. McGuinness' side played five games in 99 days to reach that stage then. 'Easiest interview I've ever had' jokes RTE GAA host after pundits go back and forth before Meath vs Donegal It has taken them twice as many outings in the same number of days to do it again. Every facet of Donegal's output was impressive here. Singling out just one of their awesome attackers would do a disservice to the others. At the back, high standards were set by the colossal contributions of Brendan McCole and Finnbarr Roarty. On a day when Paddy McBrearty came off the bench and kicked 0-3, McGuinness noted that the strength of his panel has been a key factor in taking Donegal a step further than in 2024. McGUINNESS VIEW He said: "We didn't know at that stage the rule changes that were coming down the line and the physical demands of the rule changes, but certainly we knew that we needed people to come in and give us more depth and strengthen. "We knew we had to be stronger and it would build its own energy within the group because it'd be more competitive and people want to play naturally, so I think we did see that today. "We were able to make those changes the whole way through the game and going in to play Kerry in an All-Ireland final, you're going to need every man that you've got. "That's a huge challenge and they're so confident about what they do. "There's a rite of passage there almost in terms of winning All-Irelands, so that's the first thing we're going to have to meet head on. "But certainly it'll not be 15 players, it'll be every single player that can get onto the pitch that'll be needed."
RTÉ News
08-06-2025
- Entertainment
- RTÉ News
Enigmatic Galway seek to prevent Kilkenny sextet
Kilkenny v Galway in the Leinster final. Think up something new to say about this one. Not easy. It's the ninth time that the pair have met in a provincial decider since Galway were welcomed into Leinster back in 2009. Or, to put it more precisely, since Mammy and Daddy on Central Council insisted that the other Leinster counties were going to have to let Galway play with them. Kilkenny, with their masterful self-confidence, were the only Leinster hurling county to signal their approval for Galway's entrance into the province. Although past comments from 'Taggy' Fogarty suggest that Brian Cody may not have been consulted on this. "Brian would be a traditionalist," 'Taggy' said on Newstalk a few years ago, before indicating that the notion of Galway winning the Bob O'Keeffe Cup sat about as well with Cody as the prospect of a new Casement Park sits with the publicans of Clones. This latest edition of the fixture isn't thrumming with as much back-story as when Henry Shefflin wore the Galway manager's shirt. The Leinster hurling championship became the unlikely home of soap-opera melodrama back in the summer of 2022. Cody's post-match handshake with his greatest ever player after the Salthill round-robin game had all the warmth of the Bull McCabe's initial interaction with the Yank at auction. The many super slo-mos could have been overlain with the Eastenders outro sequence. If this were the States, 'The Handshake' would be a blockbuster ESPN documentary. But Shefflin is gone from Galway now after three seasons in charge. Two of his campaigns consisted of respectable runs to the All-Ireland semi-final - in which they managed to soften the cough of the Munster supremacists in successive quarter-finals. His third and final season, however, was damningly abject. Galway's 2017 All-Ireland winning manager Micheál Donoghue has returned, as one always envisioned he would at some stage. The big regret for most of their supporters is that he was ever gone from the role. Kilkenny are leading 6-2 on the head-to-head on those Leinster finals. Galway's victories came in 2012, after that stunning first-half blitz which left people rubbing their eyes at the scoreline, and the 2018 replay in Thurles, when Taylor Swift and her fans were occupying Croke Park. A couple of those Kilkenny victories were pure larceny. The 2020 Covid final belongs up there with the 1990 All-Ireland final in the Tribesmen's 'how-the-hell-did-we-lose-that?' hall of fame. Richie Hogan's genius is one reason. Even more sickening for Galway was the 2023 decider when Padraic Mannion's booted clearance off the ground somehow managed to fly straight into Cillian Buckley's paw. The 2022 Leinster final, Cody's last as manager, was more stop-start than an NFL game and probably the dullest televised hurling match of the 21st century. These two have traditionally not brought a great following to provincial final day, none more so than in '12 when a tiny crowd from the west were there to witness their historic ambush. Only 24,483 were there for the last Leinster final between them in '23. A perusal of the Leinster final attendances over the past 15 years indicates the two biggest by a distance were in 2017 and 2019, which were also the only two in that span to involve Wexford. While the Munster Council are cranking up the price to capitalise on demand, the Leinster Council are in outreach mode, with 20,000 free tickets made available to Under-16s. Galway seem to have finally recovered their standing among their public after the insipid opening day display in Nowlan Park. No assessment was gloomy enough after that particular no-show. Remarkably, it was Galway's fourth 12-point defeat of the year, all three of their league losses coming by that margin. (So far in 2025, Galway have either won... or lost by 12 points). Worst of all, they were devoured by a Kilkenny side without TJ Reid and who lost Adrian Mullen to injury after 15 minutes. The fallout was ugly from that one. Galway hurling supporters, never averse to bouts of cosmic negativity, were consoling themselves that they might at least beat Antrim to stay in Leinster. Coming on top of last year, it was confirmation that Galway were in the depths of 'transition' with no quick fix on the horizon. The Offaly game in Tullamore - viewed with rare trepidation beforehand - panned out roughly like every other Offaly-Galway game has since 2012. An imperious Cathal Mannion floated over 0-17 as they beat Wexford to at least ensure progression from Leinster. The Antrim game was a turkey shoot which doesn't warrant much analysis. It was hard to find a pundit beforehand who was tipping Galway in Parnell Park. Partly this was due to their spotty and careless record in that fixture. Niall Ó Ceallachain's team appeared to hold far greater allure to the punditry class than a Galway side still harbouring many of the same old faces from the mid-to-late 2010s. In the end, the five-point margin over Dublin in the finish grossly understated their superiority. One echo of Donoghue's triumphant 2017 season is the dearth of a Galway goal-scoring threat. They scored just one goal in the three relevant fixtures, which arrived very late against Wexford with the result already more or less settled. In the second half in Parnell Park, a couple of serious goal opportunities went completely unexplored in favour of tap-over points. In the context of the game, it probably made sense. With the backing of a big wind, the shoot-on-sight policy was a wild success and the remorseless rat-a-tat of points was killing Dublin in the third quarter. Amid all the talk of transition, the Galway team has a time-stood-still aspect to it. Micheál Donoghue seemed to give every able-bodied twenty-something male in south Galway a run during the league. John Fleming is one newcomer to nail down a starting spot but the team has a familiar feel. The Mannions remain prominent. Five-time All-Star Daithí Burke - who "could play full-back without a hurl," as Cyril Farrell is wont to say - is still relied upon in defence. Conor Whelan, struggling for form earlier in the season, embraced his blue-collar side with a scoreless but workmanlike display against Wexford, in which he turned over ball repeatedly. The scoring touch returned in the second half in Donnycarney when he looked to be motoring again. The venerable David Burke, indisputably one of the county's all-time greats, was superb against the Dubs, a model of awareness and game-intelligence. The Cats' heavy win over Galway in Nowlan Park in April was in fact their first round-robin victory in the fixture in six attempts, a detail that might trigger a double-take given Derek Lyng's side are pursuing a sixth Leinster title on the trot. Hogan previously suggested that they were a tad lukewarm about the whole round-robin business. Perhaps given that Kilkenny, more than any other county, know they will be in the All-Ireland series, giving to the provincial league process the air of an extended preamble. This might explain why they have yet to muster a 100% record in the group stages, despite hogging Bob O'Keeffe for the past half-decade. In 2025, they probably would have done so had they not put out an experimental side in the dead rubber against Wexford. Typically, they've shaken off any round-robin listlessness in time for Leinster final day in Croke Park, last year's frightful demolition of Dublin being a prime example. The busy midfield duo of Jordan Molloy and Cian Kenny were especially effective against Galway, hitting 0-05 from play between them. Mossy Keoghan, Kilkenny's designated scorer from play for parts of the league, has hit a goal a game in his four appearances so far, with 1-02 each against Galway, Dublin and Antrim. Significantly, he took TJ Brennan for 0-07 from play in the Nowlan Park league game. Mullen, recovered from his injury in the opening round, started the Wexford game in the odd location of centre-back though that's been written off as consequence-free experimentation. However, the absence of the still-injured Eoin Cody is a major loss for the defending champions. We're up on a decade since Kilkenny last claimed Liam MacCarthy, their longest barren run since 1947-57. The irritation at tossing away last year's semi-final against Clare may still rankle, especially in light of Limerick's exit the following week. In the eyes of the traditionalists, backing against Kilkenny in a Leinster final would be deemed as attention-seeking nonsense. Logically, they look like the more secure shout. But would be entirely in keeping with the enigmatic beast that is Galway hurling for them to turn up and win having taken a pasting in the fixture two months earlier.
Yahoo
30-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
My grandmother's house burned down, and she moved in with us. At 23, I had to share a bed with my mom.
My 85-year-old grandmother lost her house to a tragic house fire. Since we didn't have an extra room, I slept with my mom so my grandmother could take my room. I learned it's important to make sacrifices for the ones you love. When it comes to sleeping, I'm rather picky. There needs to be complete darkness with no noise. Even the dim light of the television and the quiet laughter from the iconic television series "Friends" will turn the wheels in my brain, keeping me awake for hours. I was that kid at sleepovers who would call my mom in the middle of the night with a fake stomach ache, but not because I wasn't having fun or actually felt ill; I just wanted to sleep in my own bed. At 23 years old, living in my childhood home, I found comfort coming home to my room after a long day. Little did I know, after sleeping in the same room almost every night of my life, besides college and the few sleepovers I actually made it through, that I would be sleeping next to my mom for four months because of a tragic fire. The heavy rainfall sparked a flame under the electricity panel and shot up three stories through my grandmother's home of 61 years. Luckily, my 85-year-old grandmother — who we call Mammy — goes to bed later than her teenage grandchildren and had just finished watching the last episode of "Family Feud" at 2 AM. As she closed her eyes, she smelled smoke and called for help. While I sped across town to get my dad from work, my mom and sister watched a policeman evacuate her from the house in her nightgown and slippers. Tears and rain soaked our clothes as we watched a billowing fire rip through a house that had been in the family for generations. When the rain finally stopped, the house was unrecognizable. You could see the charred bed frame in the bedroom my grandparents shared years ago, with only rubble surrounding it. What wasn't ablaze was ruined by water damage seeping through the ceilings. Luckily, a few possessions remained intact, covered in black ash. A house filled with memories of blowing out birthday candles, passing the carved turkey, and making homemade banana pancakes on Sunday mornings was gone. My Mammy no longer had a home. Without hesitation or a timeline, my family took my Mammy in. Our house is comfortable for four people, but five is quite tight. We have three bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms. My father set up a twin bed in our unfinished basement, saying it was his new apartment. My sister's bed was too high for my Mammy to climb into, but my full-sized bed was the perfect height. So, I took up living quarters with my mom and let my Mammy sleep in my room — Harry Styles posters lining the wall and all. If you had told me that I'd be sleeping next to my mother at the age of 23, I would have laughed. She likes the television on; I do not. She keeps the door open a crack, exposing the slightest hint of light; I do not. It was often a battle for the remote, the covers, or the right side of the bed. I felt like a kid having a nightmare, going into their mom's room to sleep with her. And at the time, I did think this new reality was a nightmare. Now, it has become my biggest lesson. Every day, my parents remained as calm as one can be in such a situation. They navigated how to break the news to my confused Mammy that her house and many beloved possessions were gone. My parents served as an example of the daughter I strive to be as they get older. The pieces of our new life fell into place like the puzzles my family and I completed daily with my Mammy. We searched for words in crossword puzzles and watched hopeful contestants say "Deal or No Deal." My sister blew my Mammy's mind when she showed her that a burger and fries from McDonald's could arrive on our doorstep within minutes. Tucking her into my bed with a goodnight kiss is one of many moments I'll carry with me when the house fire fades as a distant flicker in my memory. Mammy now lives in an apartment across town, waiting for her house to be rebuilt. This has its own challenges, as she can't walk down the basement stairs to do laundry, and she didn't know how to use the new microwave for a while. However, despite the small bumps, we ensure her new environment feels just as her home once did. Over the four months, we laughed, joked, fought, and cried. When everything in the life of someone you love crumbles to ash, sharing a bed with your mom suddenly doesn't matter. Read the original article on Business Insider
Business Insider
30-05-2025
- General
- Business Insider
My grandmother's house burned down, and she moved in with us. At 23, I had to share a bed with my mom.
When it comes to sleeping, I'm rather picky. There needs to be complete darkness with no noise. Even the dim light of the television and the quiet laughter from the iconic television series "Friends" will turn the wheels in my brain, keeping me awake for hours. I was that kid at sleepovers who would call my mom in the middle of the night with a fake stomach ache, but not because I wasn't having fun or actually felt ill; I just wanted to sleep in my own bed. At 23 years old, living in my childhood home, I found comfort coming home to my room after a long day. Little did I know, after sleeping in the same room almost every night of my life, besides college and the few sleepovers I actually made it through, that I would be sleeping next to my mom for four months because of a tragic fire. My grandmother's house burned down The heavy rainfall sparked a flame under the electricity panel and shot up three stories through my grandmother's home of 61 years. Luckily, my 85-year-old grandmother — who we call Mammy — goes to bed later than her teenage grandchildren and had just finished watching the last episode of "Family Feud" at 2 AM. As she closed her eyes, she smelled smoke and called for help. While I sped across town to get my dad from work, my mom and sister watched a policeman evacuate her from the house in her nightgown and slippers. Tears and rain soaked our clothes as we watched a billowing fire rip through a house that had been in the family for generations. When the rain finally stopped, the house was unrecognizable. You could see the charred bed frame in the bedroom my grandparents shared years ago, with only rubble surrounding it. What wasn't ablaze was ruined by water damage seeping through the ceilings. Luckily, a few possessions remained intact, covered in black ash. A house filled with memories of blowing out birthday candles, passing the carved turkey, and making homemade banana pancakes on Sunday mornings was gone. My Mammy no longer had a home. She moved in with us Without hesitation or a timeline, my family took my Mammy in. Our house is comfortable for four people, but five is quite tight. We have three bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms. My father set up a twin bed in our unfinished basement, saying it was his new apartment. My sister's bed was too high for my Mammy to climb into, but my full-sized bed was the perfect height. So, I took up living quarters with my mom and let my Mammy sleep in my room — Harry Styles posters lining the wall and all. If you had told me that I'd be sleeping next to my mother at the age of 23, I would have laughed. She likes the television on; I do not. She keeps the door open a crack, exposing the slightest hint of light; I do not. It was often a battle for the remote, the covers, or the right side of the bed. I felt like a kid having a nightmare, going into their mom's room to sleep with her. And at the time, I did think this new reality was a nightmare. Now, it has become my biggest lesson. I got to spend time with her Every day, my parents remained as calm as one can be in such a situation. They navigated how to break the news to my confused Mammy that her house and many beloved possessions were gone. My parents served as an example of the daughter I strive to be as they get older. The pieces of our new life fell into place like the puzzles my family and I completed daily with my Mammy. We searched for words in crossword puzzles and watched hopeful contestants say "Deal or No Deal." My sister blew my Mammy's mind when she showed her that a burger and fries from McDonald's could arrive on our doorstep within minutes. Tucking her into my bed with a goodnight kiss is one of many moments I'll carry with me when the house fire fades as a distant flicker in my memory. Mammy now lives in an apartment across town, waiting for her house to be rebuilt. This has its own challenges, as she can't walk down the basement stairs to do laundry, and she didn't know how to use the new microwave for a while. However, despite the small bumps, we ensure her new environment feels just as her home once did. Over the four months, we laughed, joked, fought, and cried. When everything in the life of someone you love crumbles to ash, sharing a bed with your mom suddenly doesn't matter.
