Skip to main content

7 REASONS I WISH I WAS A TODDLER


1.YOU CAN GO TO THE TOILET ANYWHERE
No need to stop at motorway services or even find a tree to hide behind. Just wait till you’re surrounded by loved ones at a family Christening, lock eyes with one of them and angrily squeeze one out. Beautiful and convenient.

2.IT'S SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE TO THROW A TANTRUM
It’s the Friday before Christmas and your boss asks you to work late. You plaster on a fake smile, nod and say, ‘Of course, no problem at all!’ when all you really want to do is roll round on the floor, waving your limbs until your screaming face is beetroot and you’re choking on your own snotty tears.

3.YOU HAVE ZERO RESPONSIBILITY
Adults have to fret about broken boilers, council tax and Brexit. The biggest conundrum a toddler will face is whether to eat that bogey or smear it across the wall.

4.YOU CAN BE WRECKLESS
Ever fancied running with your eyes shut or getting your face stuck in a hole? How about diving head-first down the stairs or spreading Sudocrem on your tongue? Act in this manner and you’ll no doubt make a poor impression with the in-laws but for toddlers this is just a regular Tuesday.

5.STAINS DON’T MATTER
For adults, milk stains on the crotch look decidedly dubious and will probably ruin that job interview. For pre-schoolers nobody gives a toss and more importantly, your peers won’t judge as they’ll be covered in their own shite too.

6.EVERYTHING IS NEW AND EXCITING
Imagine being shot into outer space to explore unchartered planets, communicating with advanced and unfamiliar life forms while learning exotic cultures and customs. That’s how toddlers feel when they go into a room they’ve not been before.

7.YOU CAN READ THE SAME BOOK AGAIN AND AGAIN
Imagine reading the same book fifteen times a day but LOVING EVERY SECOND. For the under-3’s, ‘Peppa Pig Goes To The Fair’ is a subtle piece of art that grows with repeated readings, not the steaming honk of shit that you consider it to be.

(I post a new parenting list to my FB page every Sunday...I'm a stand up comic and dad to toddler twins and you can find more blogs on this website...)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

10 Things I've Learned as a Parent This Week (#29)

1.I cannot believe I EVER complained about being tired pre-kids. 2.That moment when you think there's something seriously wrong with your baby but quickly realise they're just having a massive shite. Ridiculous. 3.The key to cleaning Weetabix off the floor is not to leave it for 10 days. 4.I'm struggling to come to terms with the fact my next lie in will be in 2026. 5.I can recite all the words to The Furchester Hotel yet struggle remembering my own PIN number. 6.They should make talking baby toys swear. Just once or twice a year to keep us interested. 7.I could pick out the noise of a dummy hitting the floor in the middle of an earthquake. 8.Putting shoes on a baby will make you twice as late. 9.I could shave a chimp with ADHD quicker than I can dress my son. 10.Only if they ever make me a grandad will my boys truly understand how much I love them. I'm a finalist in the MAD Blog Awards 2016 and you can vote for me in both '

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

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