The funny side of family life
Let me just pop into the Tardis and travel back a few years.
Early September. 2008, I think. Almost certainly a Monday. Around 4:30 in the afternoon.
I am at home. The front door opens. My lovely, lovely children are home from school. The first day of the new term. Oh joy!
“Hello, darling,” I say to the first person through the door. It is my beautiful 13 year old daughter Jessica. “How was your day at school?” [Read more...]
My office. A cold morning in March. The phone rings.
“Hi. You don’t know me, but I’ve been reading your blog. I really like it and I wondered if you’d like to speak at a conference.”
Pah! I thought. They’ll have to do better than that. My birthday was only a few days away – if this was the best my teenage children could do by way of a wind-up call they had a lot to learn. [Read more...]
I am delighted to announce that there may shortly be a picture of my buttock on the internet.
Barack Obama and I – just a couple of normal Dads – have been having a chat about how to be the father of a teenage daughter. Well, not strictly. The newspapers have been reporting the President’s views and I’ve been muttering to myself. But that’s almost a chat.
As you know the Pres has two daughters – Malia is 14 and Sasha is 11 – and like all fathers of daughters, he’s been worrying. His hair is turning grey – with you there, Barack – and according to his wife, his daughters are to blame. [Read more...]
Stress levels in our house are rising. Tempers are getting frayed. And my wife has left me. More of that later…
It started on Thursday night, when Tom wandered downstairs.
“Mum…” (Mothers will know the tone of voice. Mum-I-should-have-asked-you-this-before-but-I-was-on-the-Xbox.) “Mum, I’ve some washing needs doing.” [Read more...]
You are gunna love your new car. It’s a babe magnet.
A text from my beloved daughter. But don’t start thinking that my fortunes have ticked upwards and there’s a Ferrari nestling snugly in the garage. No. We’re on a rather smaller scale. Much smaller…
“I’ll be a bit late,” I’d said to Jane. [Read more...]
It was time to show the boys who was boss. Time for them to learn there was no substitute for experience…
True, the last time we’d played any sort of video game I’d been fired for incompetence. And my brief skirmishes with Call of Duty hadn’t been hugely successful. At least if you’re one of those dull people who define success as killing the enemy, not your own men.
But time had moved on. The boys were older. No longer with the razor sharp reactions of a 12 year old. And I was even wiser. Plus I couldn’t possibly be as useless as last time. Could I? [Read more...]
The votes have been counted in the first round of the BritMums ‘Brilliance in Blogging’ Awards (the BiBs as my teenage children remorselessly point out) and I’m delighted to say that ‘Best Dad’ has been shortlisted in three categories:
Fresh Voice – for new blogs
Laugh – like, duh…
And (gulp) Outstanding
The process now is simple – the four blogs with the most votes in each category make it through to the final, where they’re joined by two more chosen by BritMums.
So yet again I’m doing what I don’t like doing, and asking for your support. This attractive link lets you vote. The form just needs your name, e-mail and a few ticks in the appropriate places. And that’s it – if I make it through to the final, it’s down to the judges…
As always, thank you for your support. I really do appreciate it.
The best one was undoubtedly the time Jessica badly injured herself falling downstairs.
“What was that noise?” I said to Jane.
“It sounded like someone falling downstairs…”
“I told the children not to play on the stairs.”
I rushed into the hall. There are the foot of the stairs was a pathetic little ball. Jessica. [Read more...]
Tom came home from university at the end of last week. He walked in, dumped three bags of dirty washing on the kitchen floor, ate a packet of Jaffa Cakes and went on the computer. Nice to have you back, son.
The pile of washing was so big it almost certainly qualified for its own postcode. Jane sighed, told the washing machine this was the moment it had been waiting for, and set to work.
That was three days ago. [Read more...]
Here it is then. The definitive proof that I’m married with children. That I’m dull and middle aged. That the rock n’ roll years are behind me.
On Saturday night I had to go to the Tesco Express. I’d upset Jessica and chocolate seemed the only way of cementing the peace treaty and – rather more mundanely – we’d run out of dishwasher tablets.
I don’t like buying dishwasher tablets. I think they’re remarkably expensive for what I assume is just solid Fairy Liquid. As to all those little balls they have on the top and the fact that they’re two colours… Well, that’s just a detergent manufacturer’s way of saying ‘your call is important to us.’ [Read more...]
