The Chinese can train up their 14 year olds to jump up and down on the same spot for extended periods of time, the Americans can produce a human being capable of consuming 12000 calories and not be a fat bastard, but the Irish can't even make sure that the livestock we send out aren't questionable. Denis Lynch sat in a press conference and told the media not to blame him for this illegal substance that was found in his horse's system, the vet also claims that he is completely above board. Therefore all fingers are pointing at the... horse?? I would have done the same... when I was a toddler.
I remember when I was 7, my sister's radio "broke" (I dropped it when heavily engrossed in a game of "torture younger siblings until they cry", my parents came home and held the usual witch hunt. Unfortunately they knew exactly which of their witches was the guilty one, I never hide the badness well. The a-typical bite of the lip, eyes pointed to the ground and the red cheeks of sin are the usual giveaway. However, when my father got around to my interrogation I had decided that my ingenious plan would be to blame the dog. Yes, that fucking dog yen-yen. She had been asking for trouble since the day I forgot she was locked into the house and she used the parents bed as a make shift urinal. Yen-yen was going down...
I explained in great detail that Yen-yen knocked it over when she got into the house and I was trying to get her out in case she wrecked anything- the unfortunate thing was my story was a little too good, too much detail and therefore when I was being asked specific questions after my speech I shot myself in the foot. I couldn't remember where Yen-yen had come from, I couldn't recall who else was in the house, I couldn't remember why I didn't call anyone else to help. That day I realised that my parents had magical powers...
About two weeks later, you would have thought the lesson had been learnt... it wasn't.
We had this matchbox city filled to the brim with cars, trucks and figurines... I was quietly and guiltlessly playing with this imaginary community in my brother's room when I heard my father in the kitchen speaking with my mother. He had cracked a tooth in his front false teeth. His usual magic trick would be to take his teeth out in front of us and pretend that they were in fact real, the pain he contorted in his face was very impressive...
So he was going to have to fix his teeth with the special glue that was in the bathroom cabinet. This meant he would have to leave his teeth out for about an hour. My mother was angry at him because his carelessness meant that he would have to go to a meeting like a gummi bear. However, he promised her that he would put them back in before the time came for him to leave the house.
I got to thinking, as every 7 year old does that it would be interesting to see what the teeth would be at a closer inspection. All I had to do was take them from the bathroom, have a ook and put them back before the parental units spider senses started to tingle.
The teeth weren't really that interesting, in fact I was disappointed when I realised that they were nothing special. After a few minutes I decided to return them to the bathroom but.... my mother was in the shower. Knowing full well the cover would be blown if she saw the saucer my father had put them in was vacated panic sunk in. I stood in the hall wondering how best to sort the plight... and then I heard my father coming... In one hand I had the teeth in the other I had a black pick up truck with opening and closing front doors as it's only exciting feature. Realising there was no where to hide the teeth I shoved them into the pick up. My father was now in the hallway and shouting through the door at my mother to hurry up as they would be late. I decided it was best to leave as rapidly as I could.
The mind of a 7 year old is of pure genius it must be said, why didn't I just hand him his teeth right there and then? Why did I have to put them into the pick up? why, when I was forcing them in did I not realise that would be next to impossible to release them from that prison.
All was quiet while my mother was getting ready and my father was in the kitchen watching the news, I heard him turn off the tv, pull out the chair, stand up, open the kitchen door and go to the bathroom.
"Mary, did you take my teeth?"
"Why would I take your bloody teeth? I have enough to do without looking after your things."
"No I know you do, but they were right here.... LADS...."
And like that all five of us were lined up in the kitchen.
I would like to say it was in the cute Brady Bunch oldest at the front youngest taking up the rear, but that's never how we Guiry's roll, or were raised. We all stood there, four unknowing to what the problem was, but all still believing that whatever the issue was this evening they could be just as responsible as the next. It was always survival of the fittest when this line up's took place. The questioning would begin simple and my father would usually pace a little, trying to muster up some kind of anger, but it never really worked for him. And that night, without any teeth in, it was probably the most memorable.
My mother was still getting ready to leave and I knew there was little time to explain, she wasn't the understanding one. You did something wrong in the Mary Guiry world and you didn't own up to it, then you should probably get used to hoovering, washing and cleaning.
I knew my only way out was to play it smooth. Deny it all, the pick-up couldn't be traced back to me, it belonged to my brother, in our games it had never been my weapon of choice, and besides, I had hidden it in my brothers bed. I say hidden, I just threw it onto the bed when we were called to the kitchen.
My father said he wouldn't be mad if whoever had taken his teeth would just give them back. I had fallen for that line before. It had cost me dearly, no sweets after mass that Sunday was a bitter blow...
The other four at this point were rightly confused as they hadn't discussed the abduction of the dentures with anyone else, my eldest brother was trying to make eye contact with all of us to see who was responsible, it always made him unucomfortable not knowing who was to blame.
My youngest brother, the blonde haired, blue eyed doe was the orchard in my father's eye, was standing there looking increasingly disrupted by this whole experience and I knew it was my only chance... so I asked him timidly if he had been the last into the bathroom, had he seen the teeth? Did he know if anything had happened to them? Alan was getting confused I could tell, I took the opportunity and ran with it. I suggested we all have a look for the missing mouth ware. We spread out. The most important thing was that I didn't make it too obvious that I was going straight for the teeth. I looked other places first. Then after about ten minutes I went to the bed I had left them on and declared them found.
After hefty manipulation we deposited them in one piece back onto the saucer. I had gotten away with it. Suitably chuffed I went back to my game and my siblings went about their business.
But then I heard the parents talking. My mother was asking my father...
"Which one of them took your teeth?"
"Ciara".
God dammit all to hell....
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