Monday, March 19, 2007

The Irish Times is one of the many unofficial members of our family, with 3 or 4 day old copies usually found lieing about on any given day. That's because we are very lazy about putting them out, and they usually are left folded, creased and read in the playroom. My Mom is the only person concerned with keeping the place tidy you see.

Anyway, I was about 12 or so when I began reading papers, and I have always had a healthy interest in current affairs. I think it stems from my nosiness and the need to find out what everybody else is doing with their lives to be honest. I wouldn't read the paper every day, but rather occasionally.

I can't remember when it began, but we started to buy tabloids whenever we were abroad on holidays, as The Irish Times wasn't readily available in 'Pablo's corner shop'. It must have been circa 2000 when Big Brother was on, and we needed to know what was happening. Compared with broadsheet newspapers, these were easy to read, they had gossip like stories on celebrities, and they had big pictures. We all could read these, even my sister who was three years my junior.

Every morning the geeks early birds (Dad and sis) would get up and go get the milk, bread and the tabloid. They would get first reads, and then it was first come first served. Some people would take forever with it, others just need a flick. God help you if you got stuck waiting behind someone who had a pen to do the crosswords with! Occasionally there would be arguments (I was next, I'm first, that's not fair etc etc) and it would drive me ballistic. B.A.L.L.ISTIC!

Coming home from the airport yesterday, I picked myself up a Sunday Mirror to read. I put it into my bag while on the flight and planned to read it on my arrival home. Sometime in the afternoon I remembered my paper but when I went to retrieve it, it was gone. Someone had taken it. And read it. And wouldn't you know, they probably had a pen.

I remembered again when going to bed. When I was going to bed, my brother arrived in, and *yoink* he grabbed it. GONE. TAKEN. READ. And wouldn't you know HE probably had a pen with him too. So despite me purchasing the yoke, I was, as usual last in line to read it. Typical.