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I have been nominated for a Justgiving Award for my fundraising for Refuge on International Women’s Day. Last time I was up for one of these I was beaten by Bane, this time I could be beaten by Batman. But if you want to vote for me then do feel free.
Click here.
How could you not want those stuck on your Chemistry folder or the frame of your Chopper bike?
This summer at home with the family has been incredibly hard work and pretty exhausting, but incredibly rewarding. I am pretty lucky, even when I am working, to have free time at home to play with the kids, but by being around all the time I’ve really cemented my relationships with them. My daughter had always been a little bit reticent with displays of affection and she’s still like that to an extent, but tonight we watched TV with her sitting on my legs and that’s a pretty hard feeling to beat. We’d played all morning, making blanket forts and pretending to be statues and colouring in. I genuinely love doing all this stuff anyway and would do it on my own if it wasn’t strange. But having a 3 year old with you makes it socially acceptable. Society is an ass.
Ernie is an unstoppable force of nature, though even he sat still next to me for about three minutes today. Otherwise he’s climbing on to dangerous things or eating them. He’s been cruising around the furniture for a few weeks now, but today might have taken his first step as he launched himself from the table towards me. It was nearly a controlled fall, but one foot hit the ground and propelled him onwards. Once he is up on two feet and independent our lives will be even more Hellish.
But he’s a very happy young man, as he should be, with the hand that life has dealt him (let’s not let him know about the political and environmental disasters that will blight his life) and he seems to be understanding why things are funny already. He’d better, because whether they like it or not, all my family are going to be forced into a Jacksons style comedy troupe. If I can’t be a success on my own then I will be one through my children.
And I am delighted to announce that he already understands the comedy value of the penis. And this alone should be enough to sustain a comedy career, at least until he is 50. Because he sometimes uses a potty, he has discovered his penis early - if you’re always in nappies you might not even know it’s there - and like any self-respecting man his hand sometimes reached down. Tonight though he just pointed at it (he’s just learned to point and it’s a very valuable skill) and I said, “Is that your winky?” And he laughed and pointed it again and laughed again and we laughed together for about the next minute. He is 28 years old.
But you’re right Ernie. Penises are funny. And terrifying and dangerous and embarrassing and stupid and depressing and will bring you your best and worst times and maybe help create some more idiots who will laugh at penises. And they can do wees as well. What a journey the two of you will have together.
But the parenthood seesaw has tipped and there is more contentment than exasperation and exhaustion. The new sleep regime seems to have done the trick (though really I’d prefer a regime where he slept for 23 hours a day and then did basic cock jokes for 60 minutes) and the family feels like a warm bath rather than a firefight more often than not.
