A Shitty Mothers Day Revelation
byFor a week now Tracey and I have been quietly fuming at each other, and today, of all days, it came to a surprising head.
nappy
What A Shit Storm
by“I do it!” Miss2 bellowed at me when I went to take her nappy off. Great, I thought. Fine. Less work for me.
Why Kids Should Clean Up Their Own Crap
by“Dad! Dad! DAD!” came the collective screams from the kitchen. I shot off the bed and raced for the door. Several reasons for this outburst had automatically started channel surfing through my imagination – all of them involving, at best, an ambulance: none of them coming close to the real reason they were yelling.
Worst. Nappy Change. Ever.
by“I think she needs a nappy changed,” Tracey told me on Sunday morning as Miss2 waddled by with a nappy so full it was bobbing along between her knees like a bee’s stinger. It was full in the same way the Titanic has taken on a little water.
See Poppy Run
byMy father-in-law is not a man to play games. Monopoly would be a complete mystery to him. So when he opened the door with “Tag!” I was a little confused.