It could have been worse. I still can’t believe it wasn’t.
“Why can’t I be a trophy husband?” I asked the kids as the family sat around playing boardgames over Christmas.
It took a second or two to realise what was going on. Suddenly the room was filled with a loud industrial sort of humming…
“Bruce,” exclaimed Tracey, glaring daggers at the base of my neck, “don’t move!”
#ad My love of Christmas is only slightly dampened by the difficulty of working around five GLUTEN intolerant children.
I’ve been waiting nearly two weeks to share this story. Actually, two stories.
There’s a question you get a lot when people like Tracey & I meet other parents and start up a chat.
Passive aggressive? Me? Oh, hell yeah.
One 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.
I’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.
Just 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.
In the proper ‘not quite parenting’ style I embrace I was informed over toast there was Year 7 Readers Cup at Sippy Downs that…