Skip to main content

The Secret Diary of a 2 Year Old (Part 39)


MONDAY
Went to soft play centre this morning and couldn’t wait to get on the slide. Was so excited to slide down in my super slidey pants and super slidey socks and I was flying down the slide and got a bit too excited and turned round halfway down and CUT MY FUCKING HEAD! How can you call it a ‘Soft Play’ when there’s hard bits all over the place? Cried so much I couldn’t breathe for a while. Got given a lollipop so stopped crying and started breathing. Tried to go back on the slide but wasn’t allowed with my lollipop. Finished lollipop quickly but STILL wasn’t allowed back on. Gutted because I’d wolfed down my lollipop and had my super slidey pants on. Started crying again. Wanted another lollipop but got offered fruit. FUCKING FRUIT! WITH A HEAD INJURY! Do me a favour. If I’m bleeding, I want sugar. Simple as. Cried all the way home in my super slidey pants.

TUESDAY
Another stand-off at lunchtime today. What can I say? Some days I like chicken, some days I don’t. Some days I like beef, today I preferred my shoe. Tomorrow I might fancy a bit of fried rubber with a side order of fuck all - who knows? I can’t help it if my tastebuds are all messed up. It’s Mother Nature, man.

WEDNESDAY
Had a raspberry conversation with my own arse this evening. We chatted about all sorts. Tried to start it up again later but things got a bit heated and I accidentally shat myself.

THURSDAY
Really want to go to nursery with no clothes on tomorrow. They probably won’t let me, as per usual. Why is this never an option? I reckon most people would prefer it. Might try and start a movement.

FRIDAY
Saw my own reflection whilst having a poo today. Christ almighty. Have I been pulling that face the whole time? I look like Mummy when she steps on Lego.

SATURDAY
Got subjected to the entire weekly shop again. Used to love those trolleys but I get so bored now. There’s endless havoc I could be unleashing around the supermarket but instead I’m treated like a prisoner. Was crying on the way out and some old lady said, ‘Ooh, he’s not a happy bunny is he?’ Of course I’m not fucking happy - I’m strapped to a barbaric metal contraption in the middle of Aldi while my little life passes me by. And if I don’t know you, don't touch my face, okay?

SUNDAY
The Big People need to get their stupid heads around the fact that sometimes I simply do not need or want to sleep. Just because I’m screaming, rubbing my eyes and yawning doesn’t mean I’m tired. Most of the time I’m just fuming that yet again, they’ve taken me away from playtime. There’s so much entertainment to be seen and when they incarcerate me in my cot I’m missing all the crucial parts. That mirror in the hallway? Incredible. Slapping the window sill? Priceless. Interrupting Daddy on the toilet? NEVER GETS OLD.

(I'm a parent blogger, stand up comic and dad to toddler twins. I post a new 'Secret Diary' to this FB page every Tuesday and I'm also on Instagram.

Comments

Benny said…
Because of the actual hermetically covered rolex replica sale screwed lower in front, back again as well as overhead the actual view carried out with no problem. It had been an amazing discovery, and something which steered rolex replica uk for the popularity it's these days, however the view by itself just composed 1 / 2 of the actual elements required for the actual achievement rolex replica uk targeted with regard to. Another fifty percent originated from the company a part of their mind, the actual rolex replica sale which understood whenever, exactly where as well as how you can market their manufacturer. Taking advantage of the actual replica watches uk trip, Wilsdorf required away the front-page advertorial within the Every day Postal mail, praising the actual amazing task for an target audience associated with thousands and thousands. In order to limit this away, he'd their rolex replica sale show the actual Oyster immersed inside a aquarium, the demo which wowed crowds of people using its audacity.

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

We Have a Winner!

Ladies and gentlemen - some news! One recipient of my newsletter is now the 'lucky' (ahem) winner of an exclusive gig from me IN THEIR HOUSE! And that person is... Lyn Morter!  Well done, Lyn! (Btw, if anyone from  Ofcom  is reading, you can check the legitimacy of this result via the  Facebook Live video  I did last week.) When I informed Lyn that she'd won she simply said, 'I've never heard of you' and 'How did you get my phone number?' so I'm sure that will be a great gig for everyone. (Only joking. She was thrilled.) Thanks to all of you for entering. But what now, Sam?  I hear you screaming at your smartphones. Well, I'll be taking things a wee bit easier through August, spending some much needed time with my family after all the touring. But just like that former Governor of California of Austrian descent, I'LL BE BACK (sorry) in September with more blogs, videos and general waffle.  I'm also heading b