THE SECRET DIARY OF A 3 YEAR OLD

At the park.

I drop my ice cream.
Start crying.
Pick it up.
Lick it.
Get gravel in mouth.
Cry more.
Drop ice cream again.
Start screaming.
Try to pick it up again.
Some dog runs over.
He wolfs it down.
I’m inconsolable.
The world is a bastard.
Everyone in it is a bastard.
But this dog is a mega-bastard.
Dog gets ice cream headache.
I laugh at the prick.
Justice is sweet.
But dog hears me laughing.
Stops dead.
Slowly turns his head towards me.
Try to hide my glee.
But he catches me smirking.
I stop smirking.
Dog moves closer.
Tilting his head.
With fire in his eyes.
I panic and start whistling while checking my watch.
Acting all inconspicuous.
But I don’t wear a watch.
And I can’t whistle.
So the dog is onto me.
He starts growling.
Baring his teeth.
And inching still closer.
I shit myself.
Only metaphorically speaking.
If you don’t count the poo that I did.
In my shorts.
That dropped onto the gravel.
Like an anal grenade.
Forcing the dog to retreat.
Take that you foul beast!
Don’t mess with a toddler.
Who’s had a big lunch.
And isn’t potty trained.
Mummy cleans me.
And changes me.
Then buys me a new ice cream.
And everything is forgotten.

I'm going on tour from Oct 18 - March 19, for dates and tickets click here.

I post a new Secret Diary to my FB page every Tuesday, or sign up here to get them via email.

My bestselling book 'Confessions of a Learner Parent' is currently only £6.99 for Kindle.

Comments

The Secret Diary of a 23 Month Old (Part 36)

MONDAY It really boils my piss when the Big People laugh at my tantrums. I know to them it probably appears that I’m just losing my shit at every possible opportunity but they must understand, different things matter to me. I’m not an adult. I don’t have a career or a mortgage. My teeth are killing and my only proper friends are my relatives so when you sing the wrong verse to Old McDonald it totally feels like the end of the world to me. TUESDAY Watched a brilliant video on Mummy’s phone of some kids dancing into their Daddy’s room when he was having a meeting. If my Daddy ever has a conversation anywhere near that important I’m definitely going to do the same. Those kids are an inspiration. WEDNESDAY Went to the park but they wouldn’t let me off those stupid reins. Kept telling me it was just my special ‘Big Boy Bag’ I had to wear. What kind of bag has a big fuck-off lead attached to it? I’m not stupid you know. And anyway, I only wanted to run down the hill and across...

#30: The 12 Different Types of Nappy

Opening your baby’s nappy is like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get and you’ll probably end up with sticky fingers. My twin boys are 10 weeks old and these are the 12 types of nappy I’ve encountered so far. (If you’re eating your dinner I recommend reading this a bit later on.) 1.The Leak (AKA The Pooseidon Adventure ) It’s everywhere except in the nappy itself. Worse still, it’s leaving a trail. If Hansel and Gretel had a leaking baby with them the story would’ve ended happily. This type makes me actually doubt gravity. How can something that goes down end up on their shoulder? If it wasn't so gross you'd stand up and applaud. Unfortunately you can’t even enjoy the irony of removing a sleepsuit with bum juice up the back and ‘Too Cute’ across the front. (There are many causes of The Leak , one of which I covered in it’s full gory detail here. ) 2.The Tardis (AKA The Turdis , The Doctor Poo ) This is when the amount of was...

Before You Park in the Parent & Child Space, Read This

Twice in my regular Sunday night blog I’ve written about parent and child spaces being used by people on their own. These are the comments I made: 1.People caught parking in the parent and child spaces without kids should be forced to do their weekly shop with teething triplets who haven’t napped. 2.When politely informing a motorist that the parent and child spaces are for parents with children, they often turn out to be a weapons-grade c**t. Both have been met with support and criticism. Those with gripes can be separated into two camps: A. People With No Kids Fair enough. You don’t understand what an absolute pain in the shitpipe it is to try and get a pair of wriggling, screaming, unaccommodating toddlers out of a car into a space more narrow than a hamster’s skinny jeans. (N.B. It’s the extra space we crave, not the proximity to the shop.) You also won’t understand how severe sleep deprivation renders previously simple decisions as confusing...

Sam Avery

Search This Blog