Storm Kelly

It made landfall on the Raheny household at 13:17 on Tuesday 29 December.
The devastation of the Front (aka Christmas) Room was completed by 13:26
The Christmas tree was deneedled and debaubled with astonishing efficiency. 
Green plants (and a few cacti) were methodically poked and tasted. 
Lego pieces of all sizes and shaped were chewed, and their respective nutritional values charted. 
Markers were licked and gnawed, with a distinct preference for primary colours. 
Couscous was hastily hoovered (by the parents, whenever they happened to have a free hand). 
The twin eye of the storm was cross-fed (pictured here). 
The locking of the Saab keys in the boot of the Saab was successfully completed by 16:07.
Alan masterfully managed to break into his own car with two coat hangers by 16:18 (the delay was mostly due to the fact that it took me 7 minutes to find two coat hangers, put on shoes and find a warm jumper). The man has years of practice, and makes sure to lock his keys into his own car several times a year to hone his skills. 
The Kelly roadshow left at 16:46.

Mrs Raheny, and the kids and I set motionless amid our broken furniture, bits of plants, scattered couscous and mutilated marker pens. 

We knew that we had witnessed something quite rare, and beautiful, and destructive. But we couldn't put it into words.

We felt that only Sir David Attenborough would be able to do it justice.