I’m led by an elf (whose name I didn’t catch – could it have been ‘Squeaky’?) through the vast workshop complex here at the (rather chilly) North Pole. ‘Impressive’ doesn’t begin to describe Santa’s HQ, candy-striped elves fill every nook and cranny doing anything from painting rocking horses to soldering tablet computers (I make a mental note to consult an elf next time my laptop plays up. Although I’m not exactly sure how I’d get hold of one, they don’t use social media ‘It’s bad for your elf’ says one rather smug fellow).Read More SANTA CLAUS STOPS WORK FOR A (QUICK) CHAT
Today, if given a time machine, I’d say the following:
“I’d go back to last night and go to sleep again.
Then I’d wake up and go back to last night to sleep again.
Then I’d wake up and go back to last night and sleep again.
I’d do this until the end of time.”
To be clear, I’m being perfectly serious.
Time travel to see mysterious beasts of the past or the weird cultures of the future is all very well – but barely register against using the machine to get some sleep.
As a SAHD, I’m beginning to feel like a Betamax owner in a VHS world – ask your mum. To be fair, I do try to be quite ‘zen’ about the stupidity I encounter daily from members of the public. But there’s only so much idiocy one man can take…Read More My piece: ‘Five Things Every Stay at Home Dad is Sick of Hearing’ published in The Good Men Project
In a former life, long before In The Night Garden marathons and synchronized bacon sandwich and Peppa Pig viewing sessions, I used to have a responsible job where people listened to and acted upon what I said. These days I find myself in the centre aisle of the Co-op pleading with my son to stop crying because I won’t buy him a full-sized carpet cleaning system.
Yes, that happened.
I used to pride myself on my… on my… on my… you know… my… collection of words… the ones I use.. when I… you know speak.
I’ve just Googled it.
I used to pride myself on my vocabulary.
Seriously I did.