How to Survive the Apocalypse

Mark Parenting 3 Comments

The apocalypse in question being a four day screen ban. Yep, you read that right. Four days. Ninety eight hours. Five thousand, seven hundred and …

He only had himself to blame. He knew I was watching the football when he started working through his nightly ritual of why he couldn’t get to sleep. He needed tucking in for the umpteenth time.… read the full post.

Seeking Sanctuary on the Toilet

Mark Parenting, Rants 3 Comments

I’ve decided to embrace my inner grumpiness through a series of posts I’m calling ‘the mutterings of a middle-aged man’. And before you say it, no, it wasn’t always such; at least not officially.

And where better to start than this.

I’ll leave you to ponder this photo for a few seconds, although I should probably warn you, look away now if you’re easily irked…

 

Are we done?… read the full post.

It Started with a Dab

Mark Parenting 4 Comments

At first I thought he’d had a seizure. Then I assumed it must be a tribute to Thriller. An attempt at the YMCA in the style of his own illegible handwriting?

He wasn’t entertaining my questions.

“Whateves.”

Ooh, I know this one. You can put your urban dictionary away, this dad has skillz in the spoken word of the yoof. It means whatever.… read the full post.

Resolutions of a Stay-at-home Dad

Mark Fatherhood, Parenting 4 Comments

I’ve never been one for resolutions, new year or otherwise. Much like anything left on the shelf I resolved to put up last year, they’ll gradually slide until falling down the back of the sofa never to be seen again. And besides, I like to keep an element of surprise in our relationship so to brief Janet on her impending disappointments would only be counter-productive.… read the full post.

Reflections on 2016

Mark Parenting, Rants 8 Comments

It may seem a little premature to be writing a review of 2016, but I’m not sure what my internet signal will be like if I need to bunker down with a four-year supply of tinned sardines and a wind-up torch. If Vodafone’s coverage in my kitchen is anything to go by, it’s not looking good.

If 1992 was an annus horribilis, this last twelve months must surely qualify as an annus whatthefuckisthis.… read the full post.