Another Dáil session, another tilt at the waiting lists. Bertie grows more weary by the day, notes Miriam Lord.
This time, though, a novel twist from Trevor Sargent, painting alarming visions of junior infants piling up on trolleys and Buxton chairs, chomping at the bit to be seen by a teacher.
It seems the queue to get into low babies these days is every bit as bad as the backlog of patients trying to get into hospital beds.
The Taoiseach is in bad form with the Greens.
Notwithstanding the approach of Valentine's Day - Trevor's charms have never appeared so beguiling to prospective suitors looking for a government partner - Bertie was in no mood to mumble sweet nothings yesterday.
He was still smarting over an exchange with Deputy Sargent last week when his Government was accused of failing to ensure minimum insulation standards in new houses. Trevor quoted at length from a Sunday newspaper article. Bertie accused him of writing it himself.
Perhaps it was the constant gibes about pandering to property developers that rankled. Whatever it was that irked him, the Taoiseach felt obliged to return to the issue.
As Enda Kenny launched a broadside on crime, Greens deputy John Gormley began sniping from the sidelines.
Bertie looked up, caught him in his sights and fired.
"That reminds me. I did check. I did check. And I'm not allowed to use the parliamentary term for it," he began, before using it anyway.
"You know, a totally made-up, twisted load of lies."
The Opposition was scandalised. John Gormley nearly passed out with the shock. Bertie mumbled an immediate retraction.
The Taoiseach's passion had barely subsided before Trevor got his blood up again.
This time, however, Bertie had the calming influence of Mary Hanafin by his side.
When the leader of the Greens taunted him about unfulfilled promises, the Education Minister whispered soothing statistics in his ear.
Trevor produced a copy of the 2002 Programme for Government. He read out the bit where the new administration pledged to cut the pupil-teacher ratio in Irish schools from 20 to one by the end of its term. It hasn't been done.
But it didn't stop there. Primary school waiting lists were growing. Deputy Sargent cited examples. Time was running out. Are you going to keep your promise?
With Minister Hanafin on hand, the Taoiseach reeled off lots of heartening statistics. Mary is a a woman on top of her brief. She had the look of a woman with an answer for everything. Bertie looked grateful.
While agreeing that the overall pupil-teacher ratio had not come down to the promised level, Bertie explained that it had been decided to channel teachers into areas of special needs and disadvantaged pupils. Resources for the "normal school population" would follow. Is it not better to look after the disadvantaged first?
With billions of euro in the kitty, he could look after all children, argued Trevor, waving a 20c coin which, he said, was the cost per student of bringing down the ratio. Then he flourished the Programme for Government again.
The Ceann Comhairle ruled him out of order. It is against the rules to produce documents and objects in the House.
Right enough, Fianna Fáil's Ned O'Keeffe was once disciplined for waving a packet of rashers.
The Greens protested the ruling. "You showed me a letter last week that was a bogus letter," declared Bertie.
"Where's the offensive document?" sniggered Pat Rabbitte.
"The document is full of lies and it shouldn't be shown anywhere," whooped Emmet Stagg.
Bertie bit his lip and tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. Everyone fell around the place laughing. They were all in on the joke. Programmes for Government, election manifestos and the like?
Not to be taken seriously.