H is for…


Now this is a triple meaning. Double points. Pass go, collect £200 word.

I have noticed a few things recently…

Now that my darling daughter is growing into her own wonderful little personality, she has started humming. Now, whilst this may seem cute to some. The situation is often different.
She will look around, hum for a few moments then do something she knows is naughty. It’s adorable.

I’ve also come to the dawning realisation that I can’t remember the last time I woke up not humming a song from a kids tv show. Powerful marketing type stuff going on there. Those folk at Disney know their stuff.

Finally, for something so little, cute, butter wouldn’t melt type of child. She doesn’t half produce some stink. It hums.


Dad. Out

G is for…

Gender: Girl

As a prospective parent, I’ve always wanted a little boy. A mini me. A lump that I can mould. Make them like football, video games and Batman.
Having a girl baby was never really part of my plan.

I don’t know what they want. I can converse with boys. I can play with them. I’ve not had a great deal of experience with the female children.

But having this one has forced my hand. I know I’m going to have to dress up. I’m going to have toput on make up. Drink tea when there is no liquid present. And I’ll probably have to watch frozen. Alot.

That sort of stuff doesn’t scare me. Not an ounce. I’m an overgrownchild most days. So give me the choice of being a grown up or messing about with pink paint and glitter, and there’s no contest.

The scary thing for me is the future. Teenage years. Boys. Problems. Boys. Homework. Boys.

I know I’m going to be overprotective but I can’t help it. Love does that to you.

Know where can I put down a deposit
on a shotgun?

Daddy. Don't be silly. I'll never want a boyfriend

Dad. Out