For us Northerners, Blackpool illuminations is a rite of passage. It's a coming of age moment. Right up there with your first Greggs pasty, chip barms and rickets.
I'll not lie, I had high expectations. So much so I may have bigged it up a little too much.
Duinrell Family Park - Canvas Holidays
Big Shop with Little Helpers
Like Riding a Bike
I've started running. I'd like to say it's part of a wider health kick or due to a sudden epiphany about my own mortality, but I'd be lying.
Truth is, a couple of weeks ago I lost a race with Luca. Not a proper race, mind. There was no starting gun, agreed finish line or post race drug test.
I've never been good at accents. Ask me to voice more than two teddies and it can quickly descend into a picnic hosted by Jim Davidson.
My knowledge of animals isn't great either. Beyond the Farmyard and pages of 'Dear Zoo' it's pretty much all guesswork.
When I first became a stay-at-home dad I always intended to write a retrospective post about my experiences. Of how I entered a traditionally mothers environment as the 'minority dad' and came out the other side.
In my head I already knew what I was going to write. How facilities aren't geared towards dads.
Not only could I carbon date my housework from within the mountain of clothes, but also my life.
I don't think I'm giving anything away by saying both peaked around 2009.
It was my birthday last week. 39. That's thirty-nine. NOT 40! How can I be so sure? Janet insisted I produce my passport as proof, that's how!
It's become a birthday tradition to go away for a couple of days. A tradition Janet's sister was obviously unaware of when she first agreed to look after the kids three years ago.
I have my 40+ health check this week.
It's not helping with my post 40 denial but it'll be fine because I'm sat here drinking herbal tea, and everyone knows that replacing coffee with Chinese green tea for a couple of days can reverse twenty five years of abusing your body.
I've been in a stubborn state of denial about turning forty. I only acknowledged the date in order to insist on no boozy nights out, no "Look who's 40!" scrawled on a bed sheet and left to litter a local roundabout, and definitely no surprise party!