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Mr Mum: The 'joy' of a stay-at-home dad

Category Archives: annoyances

My Daughter Is (Temporarily) A Vampire….

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Posted by Phil in annoyances, out and about

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Accidents, Bruises, Bumps, fun, funny, holidays, Humour, kids, Parenting, Safety, Scooters, Skateboarding, stay-at-home Dad

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“Daddy, can I have a cuddle?”

Now that’s a (hopefully) funny headline, and obviously I’m joking because vampires don’t really exist – right, right? – but this is something of a cautionary tale, and an example of very, very poor parenting on my part.

The kids are currently into having fun on wheels – my son is in love with his skateboard that he picked up at a brocante (a second hand market/car boot sale/fleamarket for readers not familiar with that term) for a mere four euros. He tries to skate everywhere on it, even inside the house, much to my annoyance. Whereas my daughter is all wrapped up in her scooter, a metal-framed pink thing on two wheels that may have princesses on it. Or pink fluffy dogs.

Or unicorns. I forget which.

Anyway, so they are in love with these wheeled-wonders and they task me, each time we venture out, of finding them what they call ‘ramps’. These ramps must be gently sloping tarmacced areas, can go on for any distance but crucially must be smooth and downhill. If they aren’t smooth then my son generally approaches me, skateboard stuck under one arm, and explains to me, in detail and at length, what the problem is. Generally if there are holes in the road/ramp with a diameter in excess of 1mm, he will not be happy. Likewise is there is too much in the way of old, dead branches he will request that I ‘Make myself useful and clear it away’.

My daughter, on the other hand, does not care about holes, branches, people, dogs, tanks, or aliens. She just gets on her scooter and off she goes. She’s the same in swimming pools – while you are patiently trying to explain the best way to enter the water, she’s already jumped in from one of the diving boards, screaming ‘Banzaiiii!!!’ as she does so and almost giving the ladies in the water-trampolining club a group coronary in the process.

She’s seven by the way.

So this week, as it’s the holidays, I’ve been doing my best to find them great ramps. I found one, a great one, a super smooth one.

I wished I’d never found it.

You see I forgot the first rule of parenting when it comes to doing anything with kids involving wheels – always use a helmet. I didn’t bring them with me, as I thought, naively, that it would be OK, nothing would go wrong. But it wasn’t OK, and it did go wrong…

The kids had been up and down this ‘mega-ramp’ quite a few times, with no problems whatsoever. In fact we’d just decided that we’d had enough and would go and look for another, even better one. the kids just wanted one more go, and looked at me with that look – you know the one – and so I relented and off they went, for one last blast.

My daughter came hurtling down – sans helmet of course – then made a kind of ‘Whoah’ sound and wobbled to the left. Then she slid, and fell completely off her scooter, just sliding along the floor on her front, and then immediately sat up. I thought she was OK at first. Until she started screaming, then looked at me and I was forced to watch in horror as her forehead turned green. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and I never want to see anything like it again. It was like some bizarre special effect, only it was real and it was on my daughter’s head.

I quickly bundled her into the car and we raced off to the hospital, stopping to pick her mum up from work on the way, and getting her checked out by the on-site medical professional while we were there, who thought she was fine but ‘You never know….’. My daughter had regained some of her composure by this point, even with what appeared to be a small planet stuck to the front of her head, and was able to count all fingers held up in front of her and let us know that she was hungry.

We were seen relatively quickly at the hospital, they checked her over, admonished me for neglecting the head-protection, and then let us go after a brief period of monitoring, advising us to watch her for the next 24 hours and return if anything was ‘off’. Happily she’s recovered well, only feels pain if she touches her bump and is very happy with the bottle of perfume that Daddy bought her to assuage his guilt (it didn’t work 100%).

However as the swelling has progressed it’s made her face take on a distinctly disturbing aspect, changing the way her eyes appear, and making her look, well, a bit creepy. A bit like one of the vampires from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, truth be told. It’s gotten so unnerving that we’ve even mentioned using garlic, crucifixes and holy water on her if she answers back, or doesn’t eat all her food.

I also asked her if she wanted me to take the mirror out of her room as ‘It’s useless for you now’. She even plays into the ‘part’ and will happily chase you around the house, hissing and baring her teeth. She even faux-chomped my neck last night, which was quite the most bizarre sensation I’ve ever experienced, and not something I want to repeat, ever.

She’s been a very, very good sport about it, and I’m surprised at how little it bothers her, as she can be very self conscious at times (she pointblank refuses to have any form of physical contact with myself or her mother outside the school gates). The swelling will go down, very soon, hopefully.

And in future I will make sure that where there are wheels, there’s always helmets too.

And soon, very soon, I’m sure I’ll be able to stop sleeping with a wooden stake under my pillow…

One step forward, three steps back….

19 Saturday Jun 2021

Posted by Phil in annoyances

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France, French, funny, Humor, Humour, Language, Learning

French lady stops me in the street.

Asks me for directions to the cinema.

I explain to her, in French, how you get there.

She replies, in French⁚ “Sorry, I don’t understand what you are saying, I speak French”.

Then she heads off.

In the wrong direction.

French is a fickle, fickle language.

The French, As Adorable And As Stubborn As Mules…

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Posted by Phil in annoyances

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cultural differences, Ex Pat, France, French, funny, Habits, Humor, Life, Tourism, Travel

OK, so that’s a title and a half for a blog post, but bear with me, I’ll explain.

You see one of the things I love about French people is their frequent absolute refusal to do things in what I see as a logical, straightforward manner.

I should add this is just my opinion, and yours may well differ (he said diplomatically).

As an example of this I will tell you a little story from the other year, when I was working in a local travel and tourism office.

We had a village event coming up, a very popular, well attended event that spanned one entire weekend and happened every year. We had all the posters up advertising the event, but were still waiting for the programmes to arrive, with all the times of the various activities that were planned for that weekend.

The most frequent question we were asked – on the phone, and in person – in the days leading up to the event was: ‘Do you have the programme for the event yet?’.

The day finally came and we were informed that we would be receiving the infamous programmes, and so we could give them out to the locals and allow them to see what was in store.

The programmes arrived. They were delivered to another building, 500 meters away.

I offered to go and get them, and the conversation went a little like this:

Me: The programmes are here, down the road, shall I go and get them?

Colleague: Oh no, they are in a box, and the box is heavy, we will have to wait till we can get them delivered. I will contact the mayor.

Me: But people want them, and they’re not far away – I could take the trolley (indicating a small trolley we use to move heavy items around)

Colleague: Oh, but that will take a long time and the box is heavy.

Me: But that’s what the trolley is for.

Colleague: No.

Me: Well how about this? I go down, open the box, and bring up enough leaflets to hand out to people, then at least the ones who have asked for them will be happy.

Colleague: (long pause) (lots of blinking) No. No, the box is heavy. We will contact the mayor.

The programmes did finally arrive in our office.

Several days later.

My Son Is Taking The Piss Out Of Me…

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Posted by Phil in annoyances

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cleaning, Confinement, funny, Humor, kids, Life, Lockdown, Painting, Parenting

I’ve just repainted the bathroom floor downstairs, I know we are only two days into lockdown MK2, but I just can’t stop myself from painting things. Basically if it stays still for more than five minutes, it’s getting painted.

Thank god we don’t own a dog.

So the floor’s been painted, my son comes ambling up to me and asks me if he can use it. I check it out, it’s OK, but still a bit wet at the sides of the toilet.

I tell him he can use the bathroom, but to be careful of the aforementioned sides.

‘Oh you can trust me’ he replies ‘I don’t go on the sides of the toilet, I just pee on them’.

So, in case anyone is wondering why I repainted the floor, there’s your answer…

France Is Going Back Into Confinement…

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Posted by Phil in annoyances

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Confinement, Corona Virus, Covid, Disease, France, French, funny, Humor, kids, Lockdown

Check your food levels in the pantry. Put all your plans to one side. Stock up on toilet rolls and pasta. Make sure you’ve got enough ink in the printer for the attestation forms. Buy some extra baggy pants to slob about in.

And most importantly – buy lots and lots and lots of alcohol.

Yes folks, the day that we dreaded, the day that we hoped and prayed would not come, has arrived. With all the inevitability of a clock striking midnight, France has gone into (almost) total lockdown again.

Who’s to blame? The young? The old? The BLM protesters? The illuminati? I don’t know, personally I think people are equally to blame for this situation. Because people cannot stop touching each other, and seeing each other, and breaking the rules. Because people are like that. We aren’t – despite what many people on social media would have you believe – sheep. So we can’t be herded and ordered about – EVEN WHEN IT’S IN OUR OWN BEST INTERESTS.

And we love to touch each other. Oh how we love to touch each other! It’s OK if I just nip over the road to drop this off with my friend, that’s not contagious. It’s OK if I just touch this parcel and accept it from this delivery man, it can’t spread like that. It’s OK if I wear a mask, meet a group of friends, take off my mask, exchange a kiss and then put the mask back on – the mask is back on, I’m safe now, see?

This whole situation, as I’ve watched it unfold from my small town in France, has very much reminded me of someone trying to stop a dam from bursting it’s banks. Once you got the first hole filled with your finger, another hole appears, so you fill that with you finger – then another hole appears and so on. Every plan that the government puts in place to stop it is immediately cancelled out by the actions of the many, many idiots in our neighbourhoods. The ones who don’t move out of your way, the ones who stand too close to you in the supermarket, the ones who laugh and refuse to wear a mask because ‘It’s all part of some big government plan’.

Governments – as a rule – can not find their arse in the dark with both hands and a torch (See Brexit), so quite how they would go about coordinating a global-pandemic is beyond me.

It’s like Ian Malcolm says in Jurassic Park ‘Life finds a way’. Yes, it does find a way. A way to fuck the world up with its stupidity – because we are our own worst enemy, and Corona’s best friend.

So that’s my rant over with, now it’s off for four weeks (at the minimum) of playing games, watching films, keeping my kids entertained, and trying to find something to paint that I didn’t already paint twice during the last lockdown.

But hey, there is a brightside to this: the kids are still able to go to school.

We have plenty of alcohol and toilet rolls in the house.

I Do Not Own A Cat-Proof Gazebo…

20 Saturday Jun 2020

Posted by Phil in annoyances

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Animal, Cats, Damage, Environment, funny, Garden, Gazebo, Humor, Life

A Cautionary tale…

 

Like me you may own a gazebo with a material roof. Like me you may also have areas where the water may gather from time to time, following a heavy night’s rain, causing slight bulges in the material. Like me you may prod these bulges from underneath in order to displace the water.

Do not be like me.

Please check the other side of the gazebo, before you prod the underside to make sure that the bulge is in fact caused by water.

Because that bulge that you think contains water may in fact be a bulge containing a cat.

And let me tell you, cats do not like to be prodded from underneath. Especially if they happen to be sleeping at the time. And cats have claws. And my gazebo roof is made of material. And, well…

So let me introduce you all to my gazebo version 2.0, now with added cat-made skylight…(if you squint you can just make out the claw marks in one of the photos).

 

Unless We’re Talking About Jeff Goldblum, I HATE FLIES!

07 Thursday May 2020

Posted by Phil in annoyances

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

annoyances, Bugs, exercise, funny, Heat, Humor, Humour, Insects, Life, Painting, Running, Summer

 

Have you heard of a New York Second? If you haven’t it’s the shortest possible measurement of time. Standardised as the time between the lights turning green and the taxi behind you beeping its horn.

I’m only asking as I’m thinking of coming up with an even shorter measurement – possibly named a ‘Flecond’. This is the time elapsed between a person starting to paint something outdoors and a winged insect committing suicide by landing in it.

I’m beginning to suspect they believe paint is some sort of doorway to fly-nirvana with the amount that have embedded themselves in it while I’ve been decorating outdoors this week.

Still, at least if they’re embedded in my paint (perhaps waiting for the day far in the future when they can be harvested and the contents of their stomachs can be used to clone people for a Jurassic Park-style wonderland of humans?) they aren’t flying around and around my light fittings.

What is it with flies and light fittings? Does the diary of the average fly go something like this?

Day one: Born

Day two: enter a house

Day three: fly around light fitting 2 million times

Day four: fly around light fitting 3 million times

Day five: drop dead in conservatory

I’ve researched this, as I am that sad, and have found no concrete reason for why they perform this bizarre aerial dance. Some say it is because of the residual heat. I don’t know, but I do know I’ve noticed it far more since moving to France.

Maybe it’s the cheese that drives them mad?

They are also a bane when I go running. I love running when it’s cold. My perfect months are October to March time. Nice and chilly.

Then along comes summer and BAM! The temperature rises, and along with the heat come the flies. I’ve read a lot about breathing through your nose when it comes to running, people say it oxygenates the blood more. I can’t do it. Ironically when asked about whether it was better to breathe through your mouth or your nose an NFL coach famously replied: ‘Stop trying to pick the fly-shit out of the pepper and JUST BREATHE!‘

So that’s what I keep in mind when I’m running and breathing through my mouth. I try to keep it in mind as I swallow fly after fly after fly.

Yuk!

Still, I prefer to swallow them, if I have the choice, because otherwise they go down the wrong hole and I end up dry heaving in the middle of the road. Nothing quite like a sudden attempt at throwing up an inhaled fly to put you off your stride and negatively impact your run time.

So yes, in case you haven’t picked up on it yet – I HATE FLIES!

Cats, Chickens And One Dog Review My Garden Makeover…

25 Wednesday Mar 2020

Posted by Phil in annoyances

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

animals, Cats, Corona, Environment, funny, gardening, Humor, Humour, Lockdown

Image for illustration purposes only, actual garden much less attractive

I currently have plenty of time on my hands and have therefore given my garden a bit of a makeover, weeded it, rearranged the solar lights, moved some plants around etc. etc. The response so far from the local community has been, on the whole, positive. Here are a selection of ones I have received…

Following reviews Sourced from Catadvisor Website:

 

MouseKILLAH42 wrote a review on Wednesday 25th March

**** (out of five)

‘Having been a frequent visitor to this garden in the past I am pleased to see that the recent overhaul has resulted in a marked decrease in weeds to the point where they now number almost zero. I must say that this makes defecating a real pleasure, as it means I no longer run the risk of scratching my rectum on a thistle and then having to spend all of the next day licking it. Although of course I will still spend all of the next day licking it.’

CatZilla1,089 wrote a review on Wednesday 25th March

*** (out of five)

‘Having lived next door to this human for some time now, I believe myself to be something of an authority on this garden, and therefore I am both pleased and dismayed by the changes he has wrought. The lack of weeds pleases me – as others have noted, ‘red rectum’ is now less of an issue. However the increase in lighting means that I can all too clearly see my fellow cats’ faces as they strain to unleash their logs. I find their bizarre grins most off-putting when I myself am trying to lay a cable’

 

Birdeater128 wrote a review on Tuesday 24th March

***** (out of five)

‘Fantastic! Amazing! Wonderful! I am running out of words to describe my reactions  to the improvements my next-door-but-one human has made to his garden. The lights are wonderful! I do so enjoy watching my fellow cats drop their loads all over his pristine garden, I get a certain buzz from it! And his shrubbery and bushes are so neat now that it would be a crime to urinate and spray my scent on them. This thought often runs through my head as I urinate and spray my scent on them’

 

TheycallmeMRFLUFFY! wrote a review on Tuesday 24th March

* (out of five)

‘I really do not know what has happened here but myself and my 12 children shall not be going back. Lights everywhere! No weeds! He is clearly going for a modern style but it’s not to our tastes. We were forced to defecate behind the small Wendy House at the rear of the garden last night as the main garden area was full to the brim with defecating cats. He may have made it more popular with the local crowd, but I shall be taking my – and by extension that of my family’s – business elsewhere in future.’

 

Following reviews Sourced from WhatChicken? Website

Lucyhen1,278 wrote a review on Wednesday 25th March

** (out of five)

‘I hop/flap awkwardly in 2 dis garden from time to time and I hav 2 say dat wot he haz dun haz rooined it for me and for lotz of udda henz yeah coz dere iz no weedz now and I liked dem weeds and dey woz tazty yeah and now dere iz just loads of solar lights and cat shit. And aint nobody wantz dat yeah?’

 

Lucyhen1,115 wrote a review on Wednesday 25th March

** (out of five)

‘I also hop/flap awkwardly in to dis garden and I have to agree wid da uva reviewah that he haz rooined this. Dem catz iz larfing at us cos we aint got no weeds no more and they haz du mona…monopil….monopily…dey ownz dat garden now yeah? I mean I will stil flap awkwardly inn and crap in it too but It wont be da same’

 

Lucyhen999 wrote a review on Tuesday 24th March

***** (out of five)

‘Awww man I luvz dis garden yeah? I don’t care abaht the weeds and da light I just likz making da ownah chase me in hiz dressing gown. He nevah catchas me I just runz around behind his bushes and that. He looks propah stupid wiv his crocs onn an all. What year he finnk it is? Crocs? Itz 2020 mayte, 2008 called dey wantz dere shoes back’

 

Following review sourced from The Wuff Guide To Where To Pooh

Wheresmyballsgone4578 wrote a review on Tuesday 24th March

* (out of five)

‘Why man close gate? Now can’t go do poo in garden. Liked doing poo in garden. Now garden bright at night and full of cats. Also full of chickens during day. Why man close gate? Where my balls gone?’

Just When You Think You’ve Figured The French Language Out…

07 Saturday Dec 2019

Posted by Phil in annoyances

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Annoying, France, French, fun, Humor, Humour, Language, Learning

 

I’m hosting a birthday party for my son.

First parent rolls up and deposits a kid.

We chit chat.

Then he looks at me, eyebrow raised quizzically à la Roger Moore – the universal parent’s sign for ‘What time shall I pick my kid back up?’.

‘Dix-sept heure’ I say.

‘Cinq heure?’ he replies.

I nod my head, mentally correcting my French lingo.

Parent two rolls up and deposits a kid.

We chit chat.

Then she looks at me, eyebrow raised quizzically à la Roger Moore – the universal parent’s sign for ‘What time shall I pick my kid back up?’.

‘Cinq heure’ I say

‘Dix-sept heure?’ she replies.

I nod my head, mentally screaming at the French lingo.

Parent three rolls up and deposits a kid.

We chit chat.

Then he looks at me, eyebrow raised quizzically à la Roger Moore – the universal parent’s sign for ‘What time shall I pick my kid back up?’.

I hold my hand up with five fingers splayed out, point at it and nod my head smiling.

 

Tune in next week to hear me moan as I try to work out when to say ‘des fois’ and when to say ‘parfois’

 

 

 

Trapped In The Negative Zone..

23 Monday Sep 2019

Posted by Phil in annoyances

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Family, funny, Humor, kids, Life, Parenting, Relationships, stay-at-home Dad

Résultat de recherche d'images pour "shouting at kids"

 

All I ever seem to do at the moment is say negative things to the kids. And I don’t mean I’m just hurling abuse at them and saying nasty things – well, perhaps a bit. No, I mean all I’m ever saying is ‘no’ or ‘stop that’ or ‘give up’ or ‘put that down’ or…

The problem, for us anyway, is that they refuse to learn by their mistakes, so instead of understanding that what they have done is wrong, followed by them stopping doing it, they just do it again. It may not be that exact day, but they will inevitably repeat it.

Hitting each other, leaving rubbish everywhere, not doing what they are told, hitting each other, not tidying their rooms, interrupting people when they are talking, fidgeting ALL THE TIME, talking too loudly, being disrespectful, hitting each other…

I’ve been working a lot recently, in a travel and tourism office, and so my partner has had the kids to herself full time at the weekends, as tourism offices have family-unfriendly hours. This has led to her experiencing what I am only too familiar with: being bored by the sound of your own voice.

It’s generally after lunch that it hits you, after you have spent all morning with the kids, telling them to stop doing whatever it is they shouldn’t be doing. You sort of step outside of your body and start hearing what you sound like: a stuck record. A stuck record that just drones on and on and on in a Yorkshire accent.

I know some people may be thinking things like ‘why don’t you try to be nicer’ and ‘it’s your own fault’ and ‘what’s Yorkshire?’. And I wish I could be nicer and I know it’s my own fault to a degree, but I’m just not that sort of a parent. Oh and Yorkshire is a county in England.

Sometimes I see ‘positive reinforcement’ parents babbling away at their kids, in soothing tones, talking about ‘unkind words’ and ‘unkind hands’ and calling their kids things like ‘angel’ and ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’, and I want to be them.

But then I see their kids kick them in the knees two minutes later, before running away after refusing to eat their fruit-based-snack and I realise that they are just the same as I am. They are just fighting the natural order of things. But they will learn, they will turn to the dark side once Tarquin or Felicity has drawn ‘Mummy is a Dog’ on the wall in their own faeces.

I wonder if there will ever be a day when I get through a full 24 hours without shouting at my kids, a blissful day of no arguments, and no fighting. But that day will never come to pass, and I know why.

Because they are my kids, and they have my spirit flowing through them – and I was an even bigger dick in my day than they are.

And you know what, after all that moaning that I’ve just made you read? I don’t think I would really want to have it any other way…

 

…OK, maybe a quiet Saturday morning once a year would be nice. One can but dream…

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