'Hilarious' DAILY MAIL 'Very entertaining' SUNDAY TIMES 'Amazing and brutally honest...brilliant' THE LAD BIBLE

'A gifted storyteller...absorbing and very funny' THE LIST 'Destined for bigger things' CHORTLE

Sunday, 29 November 2015

The Secret Diary of a 7 Month Old (Part 8)

MONDAY
Big people kept checking my nappy all morning. Then when I finally did a poo they found it disgusting. Not sure what else they were expecting to be honest.

TUESDAY
Had the most amazing dream last night. About milk, mainly.

WEDNESDAY
My bum got really sore today and I panicked - thought it was another tooth coming through. Think it's just a rash.

THURSDAY
Screamed my head off at the shops today. Everyone was staring. It was fantastic.

FRIDAY
Finally learned how to blow raspberries, properly. None of this dribble-down-your-chin nonsense. That's for amateurs.

SATURDAY
I wish they’d stop wiping my face after meals. What if I want to save some for later? Wipe my bum all day long but keep your hands off the face.

SUNDAY
The big people gave me cuddles today when I was sad. Felt much better. Think I’m starting to warm to them.


Saturday, 28 November 2015

101 Things I've Learned As A Parent


1.The grime inside a baby’s neck folds is worse than anything found on a nightclub floor.

2.Coffee is more important than oxygen.

3. People caught parking in the parent & child spaces without kids should be forced to do their weekly shop with teething triplets who haven't napped.

4.Dirty nappies after solids get a very bad press. I’m a fan.

5.It’s possible to get so excited about going to sleep that you can’t sleep.



6.Babies should be born with teeth.

7.If something looks like poo and smells like poo, it’s poo.

8.If something looks like Marmite and smells like Marmite, it’s poo.

9. Walking round in public with baby sick stains on your crotch is only acceptable if people see you’re with a baby, otherwise you’re just a weirdo.

10.Playing with my kids is amazing but nap time is even better.

FOLLOW MY BLOG ON FACEBOOK


11.Running out of baby wipes mid-change is scarier than any of the Saw movies.

12.It’s pointless emptying the nappy bin as it will always be full. Always.

13.Joking to your wife that you really appreciate her ‘doing her 49% share of everything’ is definitely not funny.

14.Nothing can prepare you for the first time they poo in the bath. It’s horrific.

15. Some parents want their kids to go to a redbrick university or take over the family business. I just want mine to stop emptying their arses all over the sofa.




16.Some baby bowel movements are like an exorcism – pain – fear – relief. Followed by unbridled joy.

17.The smell of a bad nappy lingers in your house longer than the last few coffee Quality Streets at Christmas.

18.It’s possible to drink that much coffee you can hear your teeth.

19.Few things are sadder than reaching for a bottle of wine from the rack and remembering that’s now where you store the kitchen roll.

20.Nothing brings you back down to earth quicker after a really good gig than cleaning a pair of rancid arses.

FOLLOW MY BLOG ON FACEBOOK




21.I'd rather do my tax return on a roller coaster than look after twins with a hangover.

22.‘The Wheels on the Bus’ is a truly terrible song. They probably use it in Guantanamo Bay.

23.No matter how long you wait, the bathroom doesn't start to self-clean itself like white people with dreadlocks tell you their hair does.

24.A baby's neck-folds is a legitimate place to check for lost property.

25.My comment earlier about being a fan of solid food poos was hopelessly premature. They are rank.




26.A 6 month old can kick you hard enough in the knackers to doubt you’ll ever give them more siblings.

27.Whoever designed babies is a dick. "I know! When they need to sleep really badly I'll programme them to get incredibly angry so that sleep is impossible!”

28.The 'Calpol Spritzer' that the wife joked about sounds pretty tempting.

29.I love my kids more than anything in the world.

30. I’d love them a little bit more if they'd stop shitting in the bath.
31.Parents who tell you their kids 'always sleep right through' are pure dicks.

32.After seven hours straight with babies it’s REALLY difficult to talk to another adult without wanting to squeeze their cheeks and make noises like a lunatic.

33.I don't know what the adult equivalent of Calpol is but I need to get my hands on some.

34.Reflux causes more delays than a Tube strike.

35.Opening picture messages from your wife should be done discretely as they may contain a photo of your son's first actual turd.


36.I've forgotten what the bottom of our laundry basket looks like.

37.Nappy rash can seem worse than it is - my son's rump looked like The Rolling Stones logo all week but he was fine.

38.Nothing makes you feel more middle class than a baby massage class.

39.Shouting 'COOL DOWN YOU BASTARD' at a bowl of baby porridge has little or no effect.

40.Failure to tie both ends of the bag inside the nappy bin properly will result in a world of hurt for you and your family.
41.Leaving the house on time is harder than Chinese algebra.

42.‘Has this got poo on it?’ is now the most popular question in our house.

43.The Gruffalo’s Child is the best sequel since The Godfather Part II.

44.Sleep deprivation is a tit. I queued for 5 minutes behind a row of empty parked cars.

45.My opinion on weaning poos fluctuates more than the weather. I'm a fan again now.



46. Changing rancid nappies is a great way to stop biting your nails.

47.Using the baby change facilities when there's a queue makes you feel like you're on an episode of 'The Cube'.

48.Someone has told my lads that solid food is ingested via the ears and nose.

49.The sense of injustice felt by a near sleeping baby as they remove their own dummy is comparable only with false imprisonment.

50.My sons have got enough food in their neck folds for their own Harvest Festival.
51.The only people who benefit from the clocks going back are the people who don't need an extra hours sleep in the first place. Bastards.

52.Four ruined outfits in an hour means the day is officially a write-off, everything is cancelled and you should go back to bed. (Like that’s an option…)

53.If they made a Top Gear style show about prams I would definitely watch it.

54.When burping your baby in public it's always good to check there's nobody directly behind you. (And to the lady in the sheepskin coat in John Lewis, my sincere apologies.)

55.If you ever turn down the offer of a nap you will regret that decision till the day you die.




56.Dads who don't or won't change nappies are letting the side down. Man up.

57.Buying tampons (and only tampons) while shopping with the babies is a great time to bump into the lads from footy for the first time in ages.

58.I don’t care that the daughter of your friend’s sister had twins. I’m just a man in Asda trying to buy milk.

59. Both twins simultaneously weeing in the bath to create a live water feature is much funnier than I thought.

60.Your baby pooing in the bath stops being funny after the 11th time.
61.Until you’ve put a four-day old soiled muslin cloth to your nose to check if it’s clean you have no idea what the phrase ‘rank smell’ means. No idea at all.

62.Pureed roast dinners are well nice.

63.On the right day, after the wrong night, running out of coffee can make you want to weep uncontrollably.

64.Imitating your son’s ‘Poo Stare’ will scare your wife more than any trick or treaters.

65.A baby that won’t nap is more stubborn than the last bit of ketchup in the jar.




66.Making my 7 month old twins laugh uncontrollably with a silly noise feels better than making 500 strangers laugh with a crafted routine.

67.Trying to find the right position to soothe a crying baby is like trying to find phone signal at a music festival.

68.Putting eye drops into a wriggling seven month old is harder than playing Jenga on the bus.

69.Just because a song from a toy is catchy doesn't mean it's good. Ebola is catchy.

70.Your kids being born is the best day of your life but getting a tumble dryer comes a very close second.
71.Wearing your wife's maternity pants 'as a joke' can open your mind to new experiences.

72.Traffic Wardens are not sympathetic to the plight of teething twins at home.

73.Teething Twins is a great name for a 1980's New Romantic band.

74.We need to clean between the sofa cushions more often. I found some baby sick so old it needed carbon dating.

75.Humming the Benny Hill theme during nap time gets your jobs done quicker.




76.Between dusk and dawn my foot becomes a magnet for squeaky floorboards.

77.Getting a baby to sleep when they're full of snot is tougher than a Wetherspoon's steak.

78.When choosing which twin to take in the swimming baths it’s always good to choose the one who’s already had a massive dump.

79.Prams should come equipped with big fuck off horns.

80.Repeating the word ‘sleep’ to your baby in different accents of varying quality is not effective in the slightest.
81.When shouting ‘HELLO BOYS!’ to your sons in a camp voice down the hands free phone in your stationary, open-windowed car, it’s good to check first if there’s several butch men standing nearby who may misinterpret you.

82.You can be so exhausted that your face changes shape.

83.The most romantic thing I can do for my wife these days is move the baby monitor to my side of the bed.

84.You can’t use reverse psychology on a 7 month old.

85.If I could teach my sons just one thing it would be that sleep is really good for you when you’re tired. (Like, REALLY good.)




86.You should always remove socks before changing a nappy. Always.

87.‘How many poos can you possibly do in one day?’ is not a rhetorical question to my sons. It’s a challenge.

88.When your baby cries because they’re tired it’s very tempting to join in.

89.The next complete stranger to ask how my twins were conceived is getting slapped.

90.Our laundry basket is like an endlessly erupting linen volcano.
91.Your baby suddenly opening their eyes as you creep in to kiss them goodnight is scarier than any horror movie villain.

92.Even hearing your child scream suddenly from the next room still doesn’t make it any easier to stop a wee in full flow.

93.You know you’re tired when a sex scene comes on the TV and you think, ‘ooh…that bed looks comfy...’

94.If burglars broke into our house I’d only notice when they inevitably couldn’t find their way out of the mess and had to shout for help.

95.My boys would rather have their bums wiped with sandpaper than their faces cleaned with a wet wipe.




96.Small muslin cloths are less than pointless.

97.After writing several posts about your babies puking, pooing and dribbling on your couch, it’s not advisable to then share a friend’s Gumtree advert for their unrelated sofa as people will quite rightly assume it’s yours and not fit for purpose.

98.Your childless male friends don’t want to hear in depth stories about your son’s first smile.

99.A hot cup of coffee is something I used to drink.

100.An ‘epic’ lie-in as a dad means getting up at 8.30am.

101.Despite the previous 100 things, it's the best thing I’ve ever done.

I'm a stand up comic and new dad to twins. Click here to follow my parenting blog on Facebook. (Or go to the top right of this page) 

Thursday, 26 November 2015

I Used To Have Standards But Now I Have Kids

When a baby arrives in your life you devote every last piece of energy towards their wellbeing and ensuring you can provide. 

The side effect of this is that your personal standards get slowly phased out, like analogue TV or racist sitcoms.

As I write this I’m wearing underpants that should have been decommissioned months ago. The gusset is more concept than reality at this stage. They’ve been hanging around in my draw for ages now, like an over the hill boxer desperate for one last big fight.

‘Pick me! I won’t let you down!’

Today was the day as there were no other clean ones. They’ve let me down big time.

I put my wife’s old maternity pants on for a little joke the other day. We both laughed but it became increasingly clear that these things were comfy and more importantly, intact. If I do end up wearing them properly I’ll be one of a very small group of men who’ve been pushed to transvestitism out of necessity.

My physical standards have also disintegrated like a croissant in the wind.

I had a proper look at myself in the mirror yesterday, one of those investigative stares into a magnifying shaving mirror. Even at your physical prime those things make you look like shit so this was like going on a facial safari.

My ears were hairy, my cheeks blotchy and the skin on my forehead was cracking like an Indian Test wicket. 

My eyes had the broken look of someone who’s been smoking crack competitively for the last decade and these days I’ve got more crow’s feet on my face than an avian dancefloor. 

If the hipster community ever decide that nasal hair is fashionable then I’m a future cover star of GQ Magazine with the look I’m pioneering.

Clothes either don’t fit anymore due to my ever expanding waistline or are blatantly not fit for purpose. A lack of time and money has prevented me from buying any new stuff in ages, leaving me to walk around dressed like a man with no fixed abode. My shoes leaked yesterday and I didn’t do anything about it.

I’m 37 years old for god’s sake.

Now, where did I put those maternity pants?

Monday, 23 November 2015

My First Jog Since the Twins Were Born

*stands in the kitchen in my running gear*

Christ, these shorts are tight. Feel like Daisy Duke. Need to sort a playlist first. Rage Against the Machine? Too rocky.

Rocky?

Ah, the Rocky soundtrack. Never fails. I can feel the calories burning off already.

*spends 20 minutes building a playlist*

Where are my running shoes? This house is a shithole, I’m surprised we haven’t misplaced one of the kids yet. When did I last wear them? Feel like I’ve not exercised since puberty.

As usual, they’re in the porch. And yes, they stink. No surprise there. Smell like cheesy puffs. That porch is filled with spiders, I bet they’ve all crawled into my shoes. Little bastards.

*puts shoes on in*

Bloody hell. I’m knackered. Arthritic hippos move with more grace than me. Shall I not bother?

No, I’ve got to do this. I’m growing tits here. Best do some stretches first. Although you’re not supposed to stretch cold muscles are you? But I have just run down the stairs so I’m sure it’ll be fine.

*does some stretches*

Christ, this is hard work. My buttocks feel weird. Is that a good thing? Probably not but can’t put this off any longer. The time is now.

I’ll just download that running app.

*downloads app, checks Twitter, goes on Facebook for ten mins*

Okay - headphones on. Music playing. Out into the night air I go. Friggin hell it’s cold. Suddenly very aware of my nipples.

Let’s start off slowly, build to a mediocre pace before finishing with a brisk walk.

*dramatically goes over on ankle*

FRIGGGGINNNNELLLL!

Christ that hurt. Bollocks. I’ve been out the house 10 seconds and I’m injured already. Surely this is fate telling me to go home.

I could just walk round the block actually. Perfect excuse to go home, this.

But you’re outside now, let’s give it a go. Turn the music up and get moving, come on.

*Eye of the Tiger plays loudly through headphones*

Wow. I feel fantastic. I’m gliding across the floor. I’m in the zone, man. Maybe my fitness isn’t so bad after all. I have been running around with the babies after all, and pushing that pram must count for something.

I should do this every day. Imagine how good I’d feel then?

*dog runs across road and tries to attack me*

FOR FUCKS SAKE WHAT IS HAPPENNING?! 

Just stand still. They’ll go away. They can’t see you if you don’t move. Hang on, it’s a Poodle, not a T-Rex. Maybe they’re chasing the smell from my running shoes. This has been a terrible idea.

Don’t smile at me, control your fucking dog! Oh he’s ‘just playing’ is he? Well that makes everything fine, doesn’t it? Next time I fancy waltzing into the greengrocers and punching a few people in the neck I’ll explain to the police that I’m ‘just playing’ shall I?

Dick.

Although that’s given me a fair old adrenalin rush that. They should use dog attacks to scare long distance runners into world records.

Getting a decent pace here. Maybe I should join a running club. Do this regularly. Competitively, even. I love it.

*hits the bottom of a slight incline*

OH. MY. GOD. I’M. DYING. Can you catch asthma?

I must have done two miles though.

*checks running app*

0.6 miles? Bloody hell. That can’t be right. Need to get this phone looked at. Maybe I ran at 88 mph and went back in time?

Think I’ll just head back. There’s that dog again, better cross the road.

At least I’ve done it now and let’s face it, it can’t get any worse.

*car drives past through big muddy puddle and soaks me*

Sunday, 22 November 2015

10 Things I've Learned as a Parent This Week (#10)


1.When your baby cries because they’re tired it’s very tempting to join in.

2.The next complete stranger to ask how my twins were conceived is getting slapped.

3.Our laundry basket is like an endlessly erupting linen volcano.

4.Your baby suddenly opening their eyes as you creep in to kiss them goodnight is scarier than any horror movie villain.

5.Even hearing your child scream suddenly from the next room still doesn’t make it any easier to stop a wee in full flow.

6.You know you’re tired when a sex scene comes on the TV and you think, ‘ooh…that bed looks comfy...’

7.If burglars broke into our house I’d only notice when they inevitably couldn’t find their way out of the mess and had to shout for help.

8.My boys would rather have their bums wiped with sandpaper than their faces cleaned with a wet wipe.

9.Small muslin cloths are less than pointless.

10.After writing several posts about your babies puking, pooing and dribbling on your couch, it’s not advisable to then share a friend’s Gumtree advert for their unrelated sofa as people will quite rightly assume it’s yours and not fit for purpose.

Saturday, 21 November 2015

Don't Tell Me What My Baby Should Be Doing

Barely a day goes by when I don’t receive an email from a different source telling me exactly what stage of development my baby should be at. These things are relentless and I'm getting sick of them.

It’s my fault, I signed up for them. But these emails are less welcome in my inbox than another Nigerian Lottery win.

Emails like this:

4 weeks
Your baby will now be starting to recognize faces and responding to sounds. They should also be writing basic poetry.

6 Weeks
By now your baby should be smiling regularly and beginning to understand simple calculus while starting to develop an appreciation of Ancient Greek architecture.

8 weeks
Your baby should be holding their head at a 45 degree angle and holding sustained academic discussions on the merits of the feudal system while sketching portraits reminiscent in style of minimalist pioneer Ad Reinhardt. They should also be shitting in the bath regularly.

I'm know we need benchmarks but can’t we let them develop at their own pace?

Life is full of keeping up with the Joneses and being herding into step with everyone else. Let's at least cut some slack on our little babies and let them dribble and wriggle their way through their first few months without attaching expectations.

It's one thing to be getting automated emails. To hear these things from other parents is infuriating. 

"Are yours not rolling yet? Sebastian was already crawling at 6 months..."

Bully for you, Sebastian. Shame your mother is a complete turd.

I’m going to unsubscribe from all of these emails today. Then I'm going to watch my twin sons try to eat their own hands while babbling total nonsense and I'm going to enjoy every bloody second of it.

Thursday, 19 November 2015

The Secret Diary of a 7 Month Old (Part 7)

MONDAY
More visitors today. One of them had the worst breath and kept kissing me on the cheek. Puked right down his jumper sleeve. He won’t come near me again in a hurry.

TUESDAY
Still haven’t pooed. Been about four days now. I’m sure this isn’t right. I should probably speak to someone.

WEDNESDAY
Managed to store some food in my neck folds for a snack later. They’ll never find it there.

THURSDAY
Woke up dead early this morning singing. Everyone got out of bed. I went straight back to sleep. Who doesn’t love early mornings?

FRIDAY
MY TOOTH! IT’S HERE! Thank god the pain is over and I can just get on with my life. Celebrated by putting stuff in my mouth all day.

SATURDAY
Big people fed me but then went on to feed themselves. Seemed really selfish to me. I kept opening my mouth really wide but they wouldn’t share. Good job I stashed some food in my neck again.

SUNDAY
Got taken out and put in a massive bath today with loads of other people. They dunked my head under the water which was horrible. Wanted to cry but didn’t. They dunked me again. I cried. They dunked me again which made me finally do a poo I thought would never end. They didn’t dunk me again. We went home.

Tuesday, 17 November 2015

What Do You Do When Your Baby Won't Sleep In Their Cot?

As I write this I’m sitting on a chair in between the cots of my 7 month old twin boys. They are refusing to sleep. My head is swinging from side to side like a tennis umpire who’s lost control of the match.

They currently have their eyes closed but that doesn’t mean anything (it’s probably just an extended blink) and I’m trying to sit still as our nursery chair still squeaks like the front door of a haunted house.

Sleep has been in short supply recently. On the back end of a cough and cold, this week the boys have had less shut-eye than an insomniac barn owl who works double shifts at the 24 hour garage. They've been getting in with us most nights so they’ve quickly got used to the non-stop affection buffet they get from my wife and me.

They’ve sampled business class so quite understandably can’t face going back to economy but tonight was the night. We had to stand firm. They were going to stay in their own cots.

My wife had mixed fortunes with getting them down as I drove back from a gig. They clearly weren’t happy and were wanting to be moved into our bed again, like a pair of unsettled professional footballers hoping for a big money move on Transfer Deadline Day. 

I got home at 2am and went straight into their room. As soon as I entered the sobbing stopped and a quiet and respectful calmness descended on the room. I felt a bit like the Pope.

I put their dummies back in but refused eye contact to let them know the situation, the same way you mumble one word answers to a taxi driver so he knows you don't want to hear his views on immigration.

They accepted the dummies with good grace and for the first time since they were born I felt like a strict father from the 1950's. No smiling, warmth or empathy, just business.

I made an abrupt turn and strided out of the room, feeling confident that I’d had a positive effect on proceedings. I felt the warm glow of smugness, so nauseating in others but magnificent when felt by oneself.

I am a brilliant dad I thought. What a fool.

As I stepped foot out of their door they both screamed like velociraptors who’ve missed their favourite TV show.

Shit.

I went straight back in, determined not to pick them up. I sat in the chair in between their cots and started to breathe heavily. Not in a weird way, but I was knackered myself so thought I could get some meditation shit going on.

They'd gone quiet so I carried on, feeling pretty bloody Zen even if I do say so myself. After five minutes I was convinced they’d gone down as the room was completely silent.

I opened my eyes to see both of them staring at me like those twins from The Shining.

Bollocks.

I shut my eyes again and counted to 60. When I opened them again they were still looking at me as if to say ‘your move, bitch.’ It was turning into a huge stand-off, our very own Cuban Missile Crisis.

Then the giggling started. I don't care who you are but when your baby starts laughing, you join in. To counter it I launched into a whispered monologue about how it’s not always appropriate to laugh, etc, etc, blah, blah. I think I was hoping to bore them to sleep.

So I stayed in my seat and wrote this blog. Forgive me for any typos, my delete button is the loudest key and I daren't risk it.

It's now 3.17am. And I can’t move because of this squeaky chair. 

Sunday, 15 November 2015

10 Things I've Learned as a Parent This Week (#9)


1.When choosing which twin to take in the swimming baths it’s always good to choose the one who’s already had a massive dump.

2.Prams should come equipped with big fuck off horns.

3.Repeating the word ‘sleep’ to your baby in different accents of varying quality is not effective in the slightest.

4.When shouting ‘HELLO BOYS!’ to your sons in a camp voice down the hands free phone in your stationary, open-windowed car, it’s good to check first if there’s several butch men standing nearby who may misinterpret you.

5.You can be so exhausted that your face changes shape.

6.The most romantic thing I can do for my wife these days is move the baby monitor to my side of the bed.

7.You can’t use reverse psychology on a 7 month old.

8.If I could teach my sons just one thing it would be that sleep is really good for you when you’re tired. (Like, REALLY good.)

9.You should always remove socks before changing a nappy. Always.

10.‘How many poos can you possibly do in one day?’ is not a rhetorical question to my sons. It’s a challenge.

(Read #10 here)

Saturday, 14 November 2015

The Secret Diary of a 7 Month Old (Part 6)


MONDAY
Cried all afternoon. Big people wanted me to sleep but I was far too tired for that.

TUESDAY
Puked on three different outfits today just as they got me into them. Made the big person cry. Felt guilty which made me do a poo. It leaked. Felt even more guilty. Puked again. Went to sleep.

WEDNESDAY
Getting sick of complete strangers squeezing my cheeks. Here’s an idea – if I don’t know you, don’t touch my face. How does that sound?

THURSDAY
Managed to burp, puke and then sneeze all over the sofa. What a mess. But what a feeling!

FRIDAY
Got taken to a fancy room with loads of lights and mirrors and stuff to touch. Was so excited. Slept right through it.

SATURDAY
Don’t think I’ve pooed for a while. I used to poo all the time. Should I be worried?

SUNDAY
Laughed properly today, like one of the big people. It felt amazing. Then got tired and screamed the house down. Life is so confusing.

Friday, 13 November 2015

'The Poo Stare'

Please don't get embarrassed,
No need to freak out,
But I've had a big lunch,
And its one-in, one-out,

Don't look so worried
I'm never in pain,
But at least once a day,
I must squeeze and strain.

I'm only a baby,
So must make some space,
And the moment I do,
I will STARE at your face.

Thursday, 12 November 2015

10 Things I've Learned as a Parent This Week (#8)


1.Putting eye drops into a wriggling seven month old is harder than playing Jenga on the bus.

2.Just because a song from a toy is catchy doesn't mean it's good. Ebola is catchy.

3.Your kids being born is the best day of your life but getting a tumble dryer comes a very close second.

4.Wearing your wife's maternity pants 'as a joke' can open your mind to new experiences.

5.Traffic Wardens are not sympathetic to the plight of teething twins at home.

6.Teething Twins is a great name for a 1980's New Romantic band.

7.We need to clean between the sofa cushions more often. I found some baby sick so old it needed carbon dating.

8.Humming the Benny Hill theme during nap time gets your jobs done quicker.

9.Between dusk and dawn my foot becomes a magnet for squeaky floorboards.

10.Getting a baby to sleep when they're full of snot is tougher than a Wetherspoon's steak.

(Read #9 here)

Wednesday, 11 November 2015

The Secret Diary of a 7 Month Old (Part 5)

MONDAY
Brilliant afternoon in the back of the car – managed to cough so much I did a poo. It leaked all over my clothes and ended up on the seat. It was so funny. Big people have no sense of humour.

TUESDAY
They tried to get me to hold my own bottle today. I’m sorry but that’s their job, not mine. Managed to make my feelings very clear on the matter.

WEDNESDAY
The big people have GOT to stop singing at me. I can’t take it anymore. Especially when the hairy one joins in. At least learn some new songs. I don’t care about Old MacDonald. I don’t even know who he is.

THURSDAY
Stared at the lamp in the lounge for ages today. It’s so beautiful. I could look at it forever.

FRIDAY
Got bored of the lamp today so they put me on my tummy. Ended up puking and rolling my head in it which was great fun.

SATURDAY
Teeth were really hurting again but they gave me this tiny pink drink that made me proper happy. Had the best sleep ever. Need to get my hands on that stuff again.

SUNDAY
Slept, pooed, fed and cried. I’m gonna miss days like this.

Friday, 6 November 2015

Don't Read This If You've Had More Than 3 Hours Sleep

If you’ve had more than 3 hours sleep last night, stop reading. This isn’t for you. In fact, don’t even look at me with those wide eyes of yours. I hate you right now.

Get back to your productive day and leave the rest of us alone. I need to be with my people today. 

People who understand me. People who are also slurring their words through exhaustion. Words that don’t quite exist yet. Words that aren’t even in the right order.

Some of my sentences today have taken the same narrative approach as Pulp Fiction, all jumbled up and hard to fathom on a first viewing. 

Unfortunately this isn’t 1994 and I’m not Quentin Tarantino - it’s 2015 and without context I’m just a pale-faced freak trying to order a treble-shot latte while not making eye contact with anyone.

I can normally function to some degree on anything above three hours sleep. Below that is like cranking the difficulty level for life up from rookie to professional.

Today I had to navigate a train journey that I’ve never made before. You may as well have asked me to swim the Atlantic using only my ears to paddle.

When I got to the station, the queue for tickets was even longer than the queue for Greggs so I knew I was in trouble. I joined the back and tried to see if I could buy them online any quicker. But trying to use my iPhone was like trying to complete a Rubix Cube without using my hands.

People dallied and did my head in. I silently wished hemorrhoids on a dithering young student lad who simultaneously had more hairstyles than I’ve had in my entire life.

Then I got to the top of the queue and in front of the window the pressure kicked in. I froze like an English penalty taker in a World Cup shootout.

The women in the ticket office must have been half-Klingon because she actually understood my mumbled request. She was very helpful but I was late so took an unnecessary dislike to her. She handed me the tickets and told me the platform but my brain treated this important information like spam and filtered it straight into the junk folder of my subconscious, alongside my PIN number and last known location of my car keys.  

And suddenly I’m running aimlessly through the station at full pelt. I didn’t know where the hell I was going. I just knew I had to get there quickly. Like a toddler chasing birds at the park I sprinted past people with all the control of a cheap remote control helicopter in the wind.

I arrived at Platform 8 and was looking for Platform 12. My train left Platform 6.

I trudged back to Costa and ordered more fuel.

I'm a stand up comic and new dad to twins. You can click here to follow me on Facebook where I post all my blogs, memes and other blatherings about parenthood. (Or go to the top right of this page) 

Wednesday, 4 November 2015

Tuesday, 3 November 2015

10 Things I've Learned as a Parent This Week (#7)


1.I don’t care that the daughter of your friend’s sister had twins. I’m just a man in Asda trying to buy milk.

2.Walking round in public with baby sick stains on your crotch is only acceptable if people see you’re with a baby, otherwise you’re just a weirdo.

3.Your baby pooing in the bath stops being funny after the 11th time.

4.Until you’ve put a four-day old soiled muslin cloth to your nose to check if it’s clean you have no idea what the phrase ‘rank smell’ means. No idea at all.

5.Pureed roast dinners are well nice.

6.On the right day, after the wrong night, running out of coffee can make you want to weep uncontrollably.

7.Imitating your son’s ‘Poo Stare’ will scare your wife more than any trick or treaters.

8.A baby that won’t nap is more stubborn than the last bit of ketchup in the jar.

9.Making my 7 month old twins laugh uncontrollably with a silly noise feels better than making 500 strangers laugh with a crafted routine.

10.Some parents want their kids to go to a redbrick university or take over the family business. I just want mine to stop emptying their arses all over the sofa.

(Read #8 here)

I'm a stand up comic and new dad to twins. You can click here to follow me on Facebook where I post all my blogs, memes and other blatherings about parenthood. (Or go to the top right of this page)