It’s Official, I’m Going To Hell
by“Daddy said a bad word today,” Miss6 told my wife as she helped her step out of the bath. Uh-oh.
“Daddy said a bad word today,” Miss6 told my wife as she helped her step out of the bath. Uh-oh.
Maybe it is time the kids went back to school. Without the distraction of homework they’re starting to find new ways to fill in time and amuse themselves.
We become our parents, right?
I loved our day at Australia Zoo. Well, most of it. There was this one thing which happened which scared the absolute bejesus out of me.
The scariest bit happened at lunch. Often the price of lunch at a theme park is the terrifying.
But that wasn’t it.
My kids want to be spies. How do I know? Because they left a clue. In code.
Big news doing the celeb circles at the moment is this week’s Woman’s Day, featuring none other than the Urbans, the Hewitts and the Devereauxs. Big issue. The print run could stretch late into the week.
“Check this out!” Tracey squealed from our office. I got momentarily excited because I thought she’d found money, but sadly this wasn’t the case.
“She’s got a family just like ours,” said Miss10. I assumed she meant there were five kids living at home, but no. “Mum says you’re raising pigs too.”
I’ve decided to show you what my wife does when I ask her to touch up a photo of me for my blog.
It’s important, when you go to the loo, to make sure there’s enough bum tickets to get the job done. How important? Take this evening, for example…
“You need to get dressed,” said Tracey. “I am dressed,” I told her. Tracey looked me over. A look of embarrassment at her faux pas failed to register on her face. “No, you’re not.”
The Athlete’s Foot invited me to take one of my kids in for a fitting of one of their school shoe range. Selling shoes would have to be the easiest job in the world, wouldn’t it? You stand at the till and suggest cleaning products. Boy, was I wrong about that.
Some may consider this post to be a little too much information so don’t click over if you’re easier offended by words like penis, pulled and finger, cause they’re all in it.
The gate on our balcony is kept shut by my clever childproof ‘lock’ – two hair ties wrapped twice each around the latch. Suffice to say I now need to remove the word ‘childproof’ from any future references to it.