Skip to main content

The Secret Diary of a 6 Month Old (Part 3)

(Read Part 2 here)

MONDAY
Woke up late in a great mood and forgot I was hungry. Then remembered I was hungry and all hell broke loose.

TUESDAY
Can't be sure but think one of the big people did a trump today and blamed it on me. I know I'm new here but that doesn't seem fair. Gonna fill my nappy tomorrow and blame them.

WEDNESDAY
New toy arrived today and wasn't sure about it so put it in my mouth for a bit. Still not sure but left it in my mouth anyway.

THURSDAY
Big people were really annoying at food time. Kept holding my hands. So what if I want to eat through my eyes? I'm an individual.

FRIDAY
Was in a really grabby mood today. Felt like grabbing everything. Grabbed myself in the bath in a part I didn't know existed and the big people laughed but then looked quite concerned.

SATURDAY
Had some food today that was even nicer than my bib. Made my face move in directions I didn't think was possible. Mind. Blown.

SUNDAY
Got given the same food as yesterday and was so excited but it turned out to be totally different food and I hated it. Never felt so betrayed in all my life.

(To be continued...)

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) 
Labels:

Comments

Robert Nguyen said…
My past article reveals how to refuse settling on a poor choice while selecting a tent. The basic focus is on the layout of the fly, which is a fundamental part of the tent. Despite its noteworthiness, such countless produces disregard to pass on the stock. Nevertheless, the fly is by all record by all account not the only thing you need to look at when you are picking an all that much made, back country tent.
5 March 2016 at 17:51
Robert Nguyen said…
Burrow tents use loops orchestrated in arrangement over which the fabric is extended in this manner making a passage. They are the least demanding style tent to pitch and offer the most inner space and tallness. https://myfamilytent.com/coleman-6-person-instant-tent/
5 March 2016 at 18:37
Johnson said…
Does this situation sound well known? You maintain your own particular business. You have a wide range of caps and obligations. You are responsible for administrator, account, advertising, faculty thus on etc. You view yourself as sorted out, yet at the same time you find that you get to the end of every day with some of that schedule exceptional.
27 May 2016 at 17:44
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Time I Smeared Shit on the Duvet

My wife and I developed our parenting systems through trial and error. One of the earliest rules we’d introduced was that if it was after 5am and one of the babies became unsettled, we wouldn’t waste our time trying to get them back down in their cot - we’d just bring them in with us. After a nice cuddle in our bed, they’d normally settle back down, barring the occasional impromptu fanny gouge or affable bollock kick. (Babies are the most violent sleepers on the planet, easily capable of committing GBH in the middle of reaching for their dummy.) Our twins were six months old. I was fast asleep. At least, the deepest sleep you can get once your kids arrive. My pre-kids sleep used to be the nocturnal equivalent of deep sea diving. Nowadays I’m lucky if I can submerge my toes in a puddle. Early on, my sleep was lighter than a Ryvita biscuit who’d been having it off with a helium canister they’d met on Tinder. Everything woke me up. Some nights I’d just lie there, bewi...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Time I Got Sent to the Naughty Step

The naughty step is only as powerful as the child allows it to be. I once sent my son there and 20 seconds later he came racing through the living room on his fucking bike. I briefly tried to return him to his pleasantly carpeted penitentiary but I was far too busy giggling. On another occasion, my lad wouldn’t go to bed and instead plonked himself down on the bottom of the stairs in defiance. I started to threaten him with a trip to the dreaded step of naughtiness. ‘IF YOU DON’T GET TO BED RIGHT NOW, I’ll, erm….’ I tailed off as I realised he was already sitting on the effing naughty step and my threat now made less sense than Welsh hip-hop. I could see on his little face, he’d worked this out too. He threw me a smirk that said, ‘You’ll do what, knobhead?’ I felt it crucial not to back down. So I continued: ‘I’LL PUT YOU ON THE NAUGHTY STEP, YOUNG MAN!’ ‘But I’m already on it!’ he snorted. My brain turned to scrambled egg. ‘WELL THEN!’ I had nothing. Bu...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Time I Screamed at my Kids

Before my kids arrived I swore I’d never shout at them. But choosing how to approach parenthood before your kids are born is like a caterpillar deciding what kind of butterfly they’re gonna be while they’re still building the cocoon. ‘I’ll still do loads of charity work, of course. And I’ll be REALLY nice to moths too, even though they’ll probably hate me because I’ll be so bloody gorgeous.’ Theory and reality are like sugar and shit. I’ve raised my voice to my kids more times than I can count. Often just to shout ‘STOP SHOUTING!’ which I’m aware doesn’t set a great example. ‘You should NEVER shout at your kids.’ And that’s fine. In theory. Because everything’s fine in theory. The Slimfast diet is a piece of piss until day two when you’ve had three hours sleep and someone offers you a Wagon Wheel. Of course, I never WANT to shout at them. I love them more than words can describe. But those you love are also the ones blessed with the innate ability to boil your piss q...
Post a Comment
Read more