Dark Days
byIt could have been worse. I still can’t believe it wasn’t.
BIG family life
The blog posts which probably mean more to us than you. Our day to day stuff which, one day, our kids will look back on and laugh at. Or use in court. Or talk about with their psychiatrists.
The Booby Prize
by“Why can’t I be a trophy husband?” I asked the kids as the family sat around playing boardgames over Christmas.
Don’t Look Now But…
by“Bruce,” exclaimed Tracey, glaring daggers at the base of my neck, “don’t move!”
Minus One
byThere’s a question you get a lot when people like Tracey & I meet other parents and start up a chat.
Sun-of-a…
byPassive aggressive? Me? Oh, hell yeah.
Like To Get To Know You Well
byOne of the fun things about your kids getting to the age where they’re dating and seriously contemplating settling down is meeting the other family.
Bin Here Before
byI’ve been parenting for 27 years now and, as my youngest is only seven, I figure I’ve still got at least 10 to go.
No wonder I’m on drugs.
On Making The Birthday Suit
byJust when you think you have it sorted they go and change the band, show or toys they like and leave you holding the Teletubbies backpack like an idiot.
Book’em
byIn the proper ‘not quite parenting’ style I embrace I was informed over toast there was Year 7 Readers Cup at Sippy Downs that…
I have a confession
byI have a confession to make: I thought the reason I had less dumb stuff to write about was because I was getting better…
The Luckiest Devereaux
byWhen I was about eighteen dad ruined a perfectly good meal by announcing I’d be expected to do his eulogy. “You’re the oldest,” he’d argued when I protested strongly, instantly breaking into the sort of full body dampness lovers of not public speaking will recognise. As such I’ve been dreading the passing of my father more than most for 34 years.
Time To Rest
byMy phone started buzzing Pulled from sleep, I fumbled to remove my sleep apnea mask and simultaneously reach for my phone, which went about…
Blubber Boy
by‘They’ve got seven of the little buggers’, my neighbour probably thought to herself as she complained about the day she’d just had. ‘They’ll understand.’ And we do! Not sure we actually helped though…
Tee is for Tracey
byI chuckled. This was playing out exactly how I envisioned it.
Canoodling was, I assured myself, assured.
This Little Piggy
byIt can’t be a coincidence many of the more disastrous stories I write about start with me being left in charge