Column | Spring noise note – NRC

My wife said, « Come and sleep! », But I didn’t have to think about that. I was too militant. In addition, the question was whether I could have sleeped. As Caroline (with that egg in her bra), our Prime Minister Geert, Drammy Dilan and ‘Assistant Pier’ Nicolien have everything left to guide our country through a very wild storm, who am I to lie lazy. I think nobody went to bed. And not at all when everyone heard that our Dickie had also stopped by after attending a sizzling state banquet.

While of course he was pretty tired after three hours of diplomatic talk. I think he had a lot of fun over that Omanian four -day medal for our crown princess. And many questions. Why did she get that bitch? What did she do for it? And do they have no principle signature trawla like our Marjolein in that desert? That would of course have been funny, if a Fabertje had also been in charge there in this area and that he had called hard: “I am not going to start. What did that snot girl have done so far? A champagne bottles broke against the hull of a ship and in Madrid in a school gardens full of tulips. But they don’t have those kinds of types there. In any case not in the government.

Will Dickie have talked about democracy with our king and the sultan? Or has he, like you and me, a bit resigned to the current state of affairs in the world where this form of state seems moldy and outdated. The Sultan is a very versatile man. In his country he is the head of state, the prime minister, the Minister of Defense, Foreign Minister and supreme commander of the armed forces. In short: no temporary worker. Actually a kind of Trump. Who has not yet achieved this, but that doesn’t take long. Donald does not care about anything. He laughs out of the Supreme Court, the free press squeezes, says what the universities should teach and especially to whom, determines what may hang in the museums, interferes with the scientists, kicks out his country and mouths his political opponents and their lawyers. I fear that Putin is now jealous.

But I also think that our shovel dog has gently merged in that side room. About the simple question: Would the child ever be proud of the person he eventually became?

At that moment my worried woman came down with the compelling question whether I was not slowly coming to bed. I wasn’t seventeen anymore.

But I was very hard. Solidary with the struggling representatives and of course also with the boys and girls of the press, who had to kill the time and should not tell the sorreest political news. And of course solidarity with those other millions to their computer-stunned countrymen, who really wanted to know who was going to win: the Lely or the Lower Saxony Line? And what problem the furthest is passed on: nitrogen or climate? And how much billion will the care bleed?

The last hours I entertained on my phone with the expert trade minister Barry Madlener who walked with a 130 sign on Tuesday and told children a day later that they should wear a helmet on the bike. Because parents become Max Verstappens again.

Then finally came the redeeming moment. It was now half past ten in the morning. They were out. And they were proud. Express. I wondered how such a room smells roughly after 25 hours and whether Caroline had picked up that egg in the meantime. I told my wife that I went to sleep, but that she had to wake me up before nine o’clock. Then Manchester United-Olympique Lyon started and that could be a very nice game. Real tension. I was ready.

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