This I just don't get. If I present an item to my son, on his favourite plate, there's a 50/50 chance of his eating it. If, however, I get the same item and throw it on the floor... 100% certain he'll pick it up and munch away happily. For some reason, toddlers want to put everything in their mouths. So any walk in the park, trip across town or visit to the supermarket is perpetually punctuated with me saying: "Take that out of your mouth! We don't eat off the floor". Leaves, rocks, bits of twig, squashed chips & a whole assortment of litter have all been whisked from his grubby little mitts just before he attempted to eat them. If I'm honest, there have been several times when I didn't get there quickly enough - so these items have had to be wrestled from between stubbornly closed lips. He, of course, thinks this is hilarious - while all I can think of is a potential night of projectile vomiting should he catch some lurgy or other.
A Musical Vehicle. Now I'm not suggesting that musical vehicles (like those created by Vtech) were first created by sadists in a diabolical plan to bring misery into the lives of already stressed-out parents. I'm not suggesting that at all. OK, I am suggesting that this might be one possibility.
I feel like one of those highly painted ornamental figures that you see in Bavarian clocks - going round and around in circles on a pre-allotted path every morning. Some day soon I'll find myself clanging a bell and singing some indistinguishable ditty as each quarter hour strikes. Why am I wearing out the pavements? It all comes down to the time of day. Between 10 and 11 EVERY morning, I walk in circles with my son in his buggy. Why? Because this is his 'Nap-time'.
As a SAHD, I'm beginning to feel like a Betamax owner in a VHS world - ask your mum. To be fair, I do try to be quite 'zen' about the stupidity I encounter daily from members of the public. But there's only so much idiocy one man can take...
"I look forward to bin day, I find it strangely cathartic." That bin day or 'Big Bin Day' as we call it our house - in order to distinguish it from the lesser recycling box collection day - is a highlight of my month, surprises me.
I've started listening to The Archers. Let me say that again: I'VE STARTED LISTENING TO THE ARCHERS. It's actually quite good.
I Have Poo Tinnitus. It's true. Everywhere I go I can smell a gentle whiff of poo. Where it's coming from I can't tell you. It may be that changing a multitude of nappies has made me especially sensitive to the aroma of fecal matter?