SKETCH:AAH, THE Christmas. It's for the little ones. Not long now - just seven sitting days before the Dáil rises for the festive season. The tree will be going up soon. Outside, there's a lovely Christmassy nip in the air. Inside, there's the return of old Nipper Cowen to warm the cockles, writes Miriam Lord
It had been so long since they saw him last, the little ones were beginning to doubt his existence.
"Do you still believe in Nipper Cowen?" the bolder ones dared to ask as a terrible year neared its end.
"There's no such thing as old Nipper Cowen," they whispered. "Bertie told us. He knows everything." But the more innocent little ones, refusing to let go, continued to proclaim his existence.
"I saw him, so I did. Loads of times. Mammy O'Rourke says she left a pint out for him once and he drank it. You're very bold and I'm going to tell Scary Carey on you." Yet, you could hear the doubt creeping into their fearful little voices.
What a difference a day makes.
Outside Leinster House on Tuesday, they poured salt on the icy plinth. Inside, vinegar poured from a sour Taoiseach.
But yesterday, Cowen breezed into the chamber and opened a window in the political Advent calendar. Joy was unconfined on the Fianna Fáil backbenches.
We looked at those happy little faces during Leaders' Questions: full of hope for what the future might bring and beaming with joy at the sheer wonderment of it all. With their bright eyes and the excited way they clapped their tiny hands, the backbenchers were a joy to behold.
For there he was - their main man. Doing what he does best.
All together now. Opposition nuts roasting on an open fire, Cowen cross and nipping at their toes . . .
It's what those poor little mites were waiting for. The last few months have been difficult for them in the Dáil. Disaster piled upon disaster. It began to resemble Mishap Central in Government Buildings and the Cowen of old, the one they adored, was missing in action.
Day after day, they sat in the Dáil chamber while their hero underperformed spectacularly before their eyes. To their unfolding horror, Eamon Gilmore was trouncing him and he was even making Enda Kenny look good.
The days of Nipper Cowen, battling Biffo, the man who caught the last election by the scruff of the neck and set Fianna Fáil back on course for victory, appeared to be gone. In his place, a downbeat leader spouting cold statistics in place of inspiring words and fighting talk.
There was no reason to believe that yesterday would be any better.
The little backbenchers trooped disconsolately into their places, pulled on their tin hats and waited for the Opposition barrage.
Kenny lined up his sights and let fly at Biffo. "We have been led into the middle of an economic swamp by the most disastrous government in 40 years," he boomed.
Just how was the Taoiseach proposing to cut €5 billion from the public spending bill? The little backbenchers shrank further into their seats as the Taoiseach rose to reply.
But what's this? He was making sense, in a way that ordinary people, as opposed to economists, might understand. He began talking about his Government's strategy. He hadn't his head buried in briefing notes and, wait a minute, yes, he was making sense.
They perked up a little, bless them.
Enda hit him with job losses and VAT increases and that plan to cut public spending. "There isn't any plan, or any coherence, or any strategy," he countered.
Strategy? Brian told Enda he'd give him strategy, rubbishing the Fine Gael leader's idea of an economic plan.
He started his reply with four words that had the little backbenchers hugging themselves with delight. "To answer Deputy Kenny directly. . ." And he did, without bamboozling and without much recourse to notes, waving his arms and pivoting on his heels: the pugnacious Nipper of old.
Enda tried to interrupt, but he wasn't given the chance. The Taoiseach said he was in no humour to argue. "I want to be straight and outline where we're at," he insisted, and so he did.
"We will bring forward an approach that will best guarantee our way through this problem. We have done so for the last 20 years, in good times and in bad. We are the authors of the partnership programme which Fine Gael has always decried. We will prove you wrong on this one as well." Nipper was back.
"Hooray!" cried the little ones.
Gilmore tried to take Nipper out. But he stood his ground. He had a strategy and was pursuing it because "it's the right thing for this country". "Hear, Hear!" cried the little backbenchers, as little Hallelujah choruses broke out in the ranks.
Never mind the nitty-gritty of Eamon's argument. The Taoiseach, with rare passion, was going toe-to-toe with the Opposition. His Government was working to recapitalise the banks in a way which would not see the first call for capital made on "Joe Taxpayer". The backbenchers were in winter wonderland.
Later on Deputy Gilmore made a veiled comment on Cowen's return when he smilingly observed he had been quite the expert that morning.
"I'm more resilient than he thinks," grinned Cowen.
Christmas is looking up for the little ones. A glimpse of old Nipper is far better than a trip to Lapland. (The country, not the club.)