I’d like to say that posts have been a bit scarce recently as nothing extraordinary has really happened and that life has been normal. It is partially true, but only in the sense that the last two years, I have come to redefine the word normal.
Normal was once, quiet nights in, crazy nights out, lazy Sunday mornings followed by liquid lunches and pretty much doing whatever the hell *you wanted. (*The Wife)
None of these things seem normal to me anymore, in fact they are pretty much a distant memory.
Normal is now coming home and feeling like you have walked onto the set of that post apocalyptic show that used to be on channel five “The tribe”.
Normal is going out for breakfast or any meal actually, and Bam Bam closing one eye & using a butter knife as a cutlass and challenging the rest of the table or anyone that passes to a sword fight. I had never been in a situation where I’d needed to quickly pick up a fork, to counter a knife attack until this douche was born.
Normal is now going up to the toilet (to hide) to find your 2 year old lad drinking the toilet water, whilst your 4 year old daughter rubs his head and praises him for being a “good boy”.
The problem with the last situation is that it stems from a very clever game my daughter has been playing. I am fully aware that most of the stories that I tell about my kids make them seem feral and dumb. This is in no way the case. They are actually both very intelligent and that is the cause of most of the issues.
Rewind back to a few weeks ago, and Princess decided she wanted a puppy. The request had been made several times before, but this time she was adamant she would get a straight answer. Obviously being the responsible parent that I am, I informed her that a dog was a big responsibility and a lot to take on. I actually think my own parents are extremely irresponsible for not giving me the same pep talk 5 years ago about having a baby. She obviously protested, and I would be lying if I said that it didn’t make me feel a bit harsh so I told her that if we were to get a pet in the future, it would most likely be a cat. This was because, though still quite a responsibility, they are not as needy, and don’t require you to participate in unvoluntary exercise every morning and night.
The talk had done the job. I didn’t hear another peep about getting a puppy all night. However, the next morning I was to discover it had not been as succesful as I thought. The victory was not mine.
6am my alarm went off and I sloped off blurry eyed into the bathroom, pulled the door shut and fell into the shower. As the warm water ran down my face and that weird tingling started to occur in all the wrong places, I realised that I had grabbed the wrong shower gel in my tired state and would have to put up with the burning sensation of “original source mint and tea tree”. Things went from bad to worse as my eyes then started to sting and I momentarily lost my vision as I heard the door swing open.
I don’t care how many times you have checked the windows and doors are locked, or that you know that the only people up at this time of the morning are those getting back from a big night out, or those people preparing for the work day ahead, there is still that part of you, when you’re vulnerabley blind and naked that thinks,“psychotic axe murderer!”
Fortunately (or not, depends how you look at it) it was Princess. As I stood there, feeling worse for wear, vision reinstated, I was puzzled as she stared at me with what seemed like hatred. I enquired what was wrong and she replied “Where is my cat? you promised me a cat!”
The kid actually took from a conversation where I casually told her that if she behaved for the forseeable future I may consider getting her a cat, that IF she went to bed, when she woke up there would be a little Kitten waiting at the bottom of the bed, probably with a little bonnet on and a f*cking greeting card attached.
We seemed to get past this, and I explained again that it was not definite, but may be an option down the line. She seemed content. I got ready and off I went to work, happy that I had managed to successfully save the situation.
That night I returned from work to find Princess clutching some sticks. Though not the weirdest thing I have come home to, I felt the need to enquire as to why. “I have brought them home for my cat to play with” she responded.
I later found her running round the house, with a piece of string trailing behind her as Bam Bam chased after. Later she had him drinking milk from a bowl and as they sat and watched Cbeebies, she stroked his head.
Every conversation came round to the cat that she was getting. She also announced to her mother, and anyone else who would listen, that I was taking her to get a cat when I wasn’t at work at the weekend (sometimes I think she actually believes we had this conversation).
Fast forward to the weekend and I find myself on the Cats Protection website, RSPCA and any other site where I could view potential suitors. Meanwhile Princess bombarded me with several funny cat videos and pictures of cute little kittens with their stupidly cute eyes popping out of their heads.
The wife meanwhile was not impressed. Knowing that this feline would be her responsibility whilst I was at work. She was already running out of ways to keep the children alive whilst I was away let alone another animal that just eats, sh*ts and claws at the walls.
So together me and Princess worked our magic. Showing the wife funny cat videos, pictures of cute kittens and image after image of little lost cats needing a good home. Yeah we used guilt too. I realised now me and Princess had joined forces again. We were Professor X and Magneto and we were going to unite humans and *mutants. (*cats.)
A week later my wife and I, walked into our living room with a small basket. We placed it on the ground and watched our beautiful daughter’s happy little face as the head of a little black kitten popped out and made a little squeal. I looked on as she approached her new friend and I saw a look of contentment. But this wasn’t all I could see. I didn’t know why but I couldn’t help but see a look of victory in her crooked smile.
It was at that point the difficult realisation washed over me… She had used one of the most standard business methods on me. She should be selling sh*t on your f*cking doorsteps. She had put the idea of getting something unattainable on the table, knowing full well that bartering would ensue and a more appropriate deal would be made. Whats worse is she actually brought me on to her side and had me arguing the point with her mum. Basically…
She never even wanted a f*cking puppy!
The Daddy Dreadfuls 