Dáil Sketch:Since Bertie came to power, Ash Wednesday has become an unofficial half day for the noble footsoldiers of the Funny-Little-Write-Ups brigade.
There isn't much point in listening to parliamentary exchanges when the Taoiseach's penitential ashes always win out. Why bother darkening the Dáil chamber in search of sparkling wit and repartee if Bertie's blessed smudge is going to end up the sole object of fascination?
No more. The Taoiseach has made it clear he will not be contesting the next election. Therefore, we must embrace change. In our Vision for the Future, it is time to look towards the new dispensation and manage the transition in a spirit of mutual co-operation and in accordance with the terms of the Belfast Agreement.
We averted our gaze in order to avoid slipping into old ways by making references to sackcloth and ashes and the Taoiseach's recent performances in Dublin Castle.
Enda Kenny tried a diversionary tactic with a very lengthy question about ABA. Bertie's eyes lit up momentarily, until he realised the Fine Gael leader wasn't inviting his comments on the "Anyone But Arsenal" school of thought in English Premiership soccer.
Deputy Kenny was concerned about the lack of Applied Behavioural Analysis services available for children with autism.
This is a worthy subject for the national parliament, but not great for the noble members of the Funny-Write-Ups brigade. Minister for Education Mary Hanafin leaned across to whisper a few statistics to her boss.
It was hard to resist checking whether Mary was sporting traces of carbon beneath her blonde fringe. Because if she wasn't, then Bertie was the only politician on the well populated Government benches displaying Lenten ash.
At least Deputy Máire Hoctor embraced the change by helping to take minds off the Taoiseach's smudge, which appeared to be the size of a two-euro coin and remarkably visible, despite the fact that a sizeable amount of make-up would have been slathered over it before he went into battle.
Unless, for Bertie, it was a case of: "Work around it, luv, thanks very much." Not that we were looking.
Back to Deputy Hoctor, like a refugee from an all-night Super Tuesday rave up, resplendent in a jacket with broad pink stripes over a T-shirt facilitating a riot of glittering pink sequins. Even so, Fine Gael's Olivia Mitchell pipped her in the bling department in sporting a metallic gold jacket offset by an outrageously deep suntan.
Labour's Eamon Gilmore asked about the status of the various reports that have been commissioned on the country's cancer services. Unfortunately for Bertie, this time he had no Minister to lean across and whisper advice. Mary Harney was last seen doing the hokey-cokey around Lower Manhattan during the Superbowl victory parade for the New York Giants.
It was a slow morning, and difficult not to ponder the decade-old question of how the Taoiseach manages to keep his ashes looking so fresh all day.
Not that we were looking.
It was Deputy Gilmore who cracked in the end. He couldn't look a moment longer at Bertie without referring to Lent, by way of his impending visit to Manchester to meet Gordon Brown.
"Given the extent to which Manchester has been an occasion for temptation, Taoiseach, for you in the past, and given the day that's in it, can I suggest a few Lenten pledges you might take," said Eamon, struggling to keep a straight face.
"Stay away from the Four Season's Hotel.
"Avoid giving impromptu talks on the economy.
"And don't take anything from anybody you don't know."
Bertie flashed him a beaming smile, but said nothing. "And avoid strange buses!" came a shout from the Fine Gael ranks.
Green Minister Eamon Ryan, sat beside the Taoiseach, stony faced. Hard to know which of them was doing the penance.
Not that we were looking.
