“I love that curly, whispy hair that droops down from her ponytail at the base of her neck. Mind you that’s gonna annoy the shit out of her if she becomes a ballerina and has to Elnett the fuck out of it every day…”

“No sweetheart, Daddy doesn’t want to eat your bogey. Good girl for sharing though”

“Yes Daddy is doing a poo. Well done you for knowing. What an observant little thing you are”

“Oh baby if you could just realise that yoghurt is so much better in your tummy and not in the dog’s eyes. Well done for sharing though”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! My daughter points at everyone’s tummy at the moment and shouts, “BABY!”. You’re really not THAT fat though. I mean… Errrr… Not that pregnant women look fat! She was just saying it ‘cos my wife is pregnant.  You look lovely and cuddly though… Mmm… Errr… I mean for her, not me. I don’t wanna cuddle you, ha ha God no! Shit. I think we best leave…”

“I think I have a man-crush on Andy from Andy’s Prehistoric Adventures

“I found it fascinating watching what those Doctors were doing to my wife’s vagina”

“But you see, I don’t even have a choice! As a man I’m so envious of you, I’d love to have leaky nipples”

*Beautiful sunset evening on the Cornish coast. My wife wistfully turns to me and asks what I am thinking about – “I’m wondering why Moo’s poo was a little loose this morning…”

In the Night Garden… is basically my wine alarm clock. It’s my 25 minute countdown to fermented grape freedom”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS A PERCENTILE ANYWAY?”

*There’s a tall bottle on the table at morning playgroup. I see it from a distance and ask – “My God is that wine? Quite right, lovely day for it. I’d love a glass!” It wasn’t. It was elderflower. I was henceforth politely ignored

“OK sweetheart be gentle with your front bottom. No, I’m pretty sure duck doesn’t want to go up there. Well done for sharing though”

“Yes sweetheart that’s a bee. But it’s a dead bee though I’m afraid… Oh to explain the complexities of our troubled existence on this mortal coil”

Raa Raa the Noisy Lion is basically a spoilt little fucking bully. I bloody hate him. Dick”

*I ride my new motorbike down to Dorset. When I arrive my wife excitedly asks how it was – “I spent the entire journey worrying if we’d packed Moo’s cuddly Bee or not”

“Yes Moo you have done a poo well done. Daddy’s changing you now. No, no don’t touch it!! Ew wait, wait I really don’t want it on my hand… Oh… Well done for sharing though”

“Those Postman Pat ‘Special Delivery Service’ episodes really wind me up. Using a helicopter to deliver balloons? What a wanker. No wonder our Postal Service is up the cock. And that bloody ginger girl needs to get her adenoids done. Fast!” (This is what too many early mornings can do to you)

“One of my greatest joys at 6am is IMDBing all the actors on CBeebies to see what else they’ve done. It’s fascinating”

“Oh wow Moo, stones! Brilliant! They’re so different from all the other ones in the pram”

“As soon as I can I’m taking Moo to MMA classes. I want her fully able to look after herself and kick the shit out of any bullies. And anyone who tries to kiss her. In fact, boys in general. All boys she needs to learn how to destroy”

“No please don’t say ‘Fuck’ Moo. Daddy Shouldn’t say it. No, it’s not funny. Please stop. Shit… Oh no, please don’t say shit now. Oh bollox… No, wait!”

“I’m sorry mate I can’t come over on the bike tonight ‘cos I have chafed my bum cheeks red raw! I had to walk 6 1/2 miles trying to get Moo to sleep today. Thank God for nappy change cream hey! Hello? Helllooo?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s