The blog, the whole blog and nothing but the blog.
We have a result!
From the moment I woke I knew something wasn’t quite right but I was totally wrong about what it was.
Wondering if we’re alone with this domestic issue/parenting fail. I mean, I know women often complain about this sort of thing, but is it maybe not entirely the fault of us fellas?
We’ve been sort of caught in the act. Well I say, ‘kind of’. Tracey says, ‘near enough’. Miss14 says she’s gonna need therapy. Lots and lots of therapy.
Warning: I’ve got my ranty pants on again
From gluttony to a glut, all in the space of a nice night out.
Despite the mess, ultimately Tracey enjoyed this even more than the kids.
My DNA results are in!
“I don’t need to take a lunchbox to school,” Miss6 explained to me. “I’m having tuck shop.” This was news to everyone except her.
“Let’s talk business, Dad,” Miss11 said to me while I sipped my coffee. “I’ve got a proposal for you.”
Tracey says this post could open the flood gates, but I think we can handel it.
Done it. The first traditional school day after eighteen months of homeschool. I don’t know about the kids but we’re friggin’ exhausted.
I blame Marvel.
Our youngest got a little introspective which resulted in our kitchen getting a little messed up.
Why on earth are we back in Gympie when we have a bus decked out with beds? Well, I’ll tell you…