…One Sunday afternoon many years ago I had to get a box out of our loft. I opened the loft hatch, lowered the ladders, went up into the roof space and found the box I was after. It was full of comic books and it was heavy. Really heavy. And so the sensible thing to do was to wait until Lyndsay came home so that she could help retrieve it.
So, three months after my little boy Charlie was born I wrote a post on Facebook… this is it. “I was congratulating myself today on how I’ve got nappy changing down to a precision art. I’m basically like a Formula One pit crew.. in fact, in many ways, I’m better, because when you’re speed-changing the tyres on Lewis Hamilton’s car he’s probably less likely to piss in your eyes and
Now THIS is an amazing story. Even if it is accompanied by the usual bonfire-pissing comments about ‘messing with nature’ and ‘playing god’. Fertility science, from IVF to cutting edge stuff like this, is dogged by these attitudes, especially online. You need no licence to use the internet and that means that even those amongst us with brains that function like a potato, are allowed to drag their knuckles along
Just seen the news footage doing the rounds of that piece of shit father ‘smacking’ his little boy. What I’m most appalled by is the number of people supporting him. People insistent that: “I was smacked as a child and it never did me any harm.” Okay, maybe that’s true and maybe it isn’t. I used to play a game with my brother called ‘Rochambeau’ in which you take it
BING the most popular kids show during lockdown!? (..saw this headline and thought I’d share a snippet of this bit from #ManVsToddler.) “The main character in Bing is a massive-headed rabbit in dungarees, who constantly fucks everything up and then whinges about it as though it wasn’t his fault in the first place. (That’s the entire premise.) The other main character is Flop, Bing’s guardian. It is not clear whether he
RE: ‘BEDTIME HOUR’ Dear CBeebies, I am writing to complain about ‘Bedtime Hour’.Since becoming a parent I have very much enjoyed your programming. I love almost everything about it; from Hey Duggee to Andy’s Prehistoric Adventures. Yes, Abney & Teal’s a bit shit, Bing’s a whiny dick and the Tumble family can be a bit unsettling (I’m just going to say it: Mr Tumble, Grandpa Tumble, Polly Tumble, there’s not
When it was suggested that I write an article about my dad, and what he taught Me about being a father, it seemed like a good idea. Especially since he died a few years ago.. When someone’s died it makes the wise things they said seem a bit wiser. ..Yeah, this would be a good article. But when I sat down to actually write the thing I had no idea
Whilst scrolling through social media, I often come across parents and children enjoying quality time and bonding over a shared love of baking. These pictures are usually incredibly sweet. A toddler, with a little apron tied at the waist, perhaps a smear of chocolate on one cheek, smiles happily at the camera, as they and their mum cheerfully show off a tray of perfectly crafted brownies. Beneath which appears a
I was once asked at a book event/signing whether or not I thought Postman Pat waxed his balls, (don’t ask). This is not, however, the strangest question I have ever been asked. The oddest question I have ever been asked was just this week, and it was this: “Do you even like kids?” …It was a snarky question asked by a woman who, as it turned out, had a problem
[from the archive] I know this has probably all been said before but.. who are these fucking crackpots who have a problem with breastfeeding in public? Or these weirdos who say they “don’t mind it” as long as it’s done “discreetly”. Erm.. show of hands.. has anyone ever seen breastfeeding done indiscreetly? I for one have never seen a woman begin breastfeeding by ostentatiously unveiling her nipple-tasseled tits to the
So Charlie is two years old today. And I can think of nothing better to post than this bit out of the book… part of a letter to Charlie explaining how he came to exist in the first place… ———————————- “…So, before you came along, we were happy and had a pretty good life. We didn’t really talk about having kids. Weirdly, it just didn’t come up that often and
– Could I have a cup of hot water please? I just want to warm the baby’s food. – No. We can’t let you have a cup of hot water. – Really, why not? – It’s Health and Safety. – mm. But I’ve just bought 2 cups of tea from here and they were the same temperature as the Earth’s core. – And? – Well, the only difference between those
Tough week. Charlie’s mum’s maternity leave ended. So the person in our house who prevents fires etc. returned to work.. Whilst I found myself looking after our little boy properly on my own.. Its true to say that as Lyns walked out the door that first morning there was quite a few tears, sobbing, and protest-soiling.. but, in my defence, by lunchtime I had calmed down a bit. Anyway, to
One or two people were a bit judgey about the idea of taking a 6-month old away. “So, you’re taking him on holiday?” Yeah. “Abroad?” Yeah. “Somewhere hot??” Yeah. “On an aeroplane??” …By which point I was tempted to answer: “No, me and Lyns will be going on the plane, but we thought we’d get Charlie there by driving him to Dover and firing him out of a f*cking cannon”.
You know how fast Wolverine deploys his claws.. ? That’s basically the same speed a baby’s fingernails grow. You can cut them, file them, angle-grind them..turn your back for 5 minutes, turn back again.. and there he is.. Edward Scissorhands, lying in his cot, ..raking his own face again, until he looks like one of the cenobites from Hellraiser. I’m sure our Health visitor thinks that in between her visits