After a hard week at work, what better way to start Friday night than with a hot bath at near nuclear level to wash away the stress. My wife said she was having a night out and would I mind? Not me princess, on my own with the kids at bedtime is a piece of cake! Famous last words Dorset Dad, as the moment the front door closed I opened up the bath taps to suddenly hear my son stating he needed to go downstairs for something. Good grief, my wife had probably not even got into the car and I was already losing control. I managed to round my son up for the second time and informed him that it was lights out before the bath overruns, to be told “But my sister has her light on!” I negotiated like a true professional and all lights were out and two kids in bed! Oh yes, check me out, people.
I got into the bath and literally just got wet, when I heard a shout of “Daddy, Daddy there’s a fly in my room!” “Never mind, son,” I yelled back “I will get the fly out later. Night, night, son.” This was followed up seconds later with “Daddy, Daddy it’s a blood sucker fly!” What!? Minutes ago it was a fly, now it’s been upgraded to a blood sucker. I shouted, muttered and got out of the bath giving up on it, and put a towel round me to give Blood Sucker Bob a piece of my mind, but when I got into the room there was no fly, only a soggy Dorset Dad with a towel covering him in case Blood Sucker Bob sought fresh blood. After checking the coast was clear for my son, I went downstairs a defeated and dejected man who had to give up on the bath. I looked at the washing up from dinner, and I was ready to impress my wife with all the washing up done, and a clean and tidy house, when biscuits and coffee jumped into my hands and the television switched on. What a stroke of luck! Tomorrow is a new morning and I will tackle the washing up in the morning.
My wife woke up super early and said she was heading to the shower, I was surprised as I did not realise it was that time of the year already (it’s ok, my wife edits the blog). I was going to have a lie in when my wife reminded me her car was broken and could I get it mended? I headed into the shower soon after and had just began to run it. Just as I stepped in, the usual knock of doom sounded on the door. How come every time I use the bathroom someone’s bowels decide to explode? Never defeated I got the kids dressed, washed and headed out in my wife’s toy box on wheels. We arrived at the garage and I asked the kids to wait by the car and not to move whilst I give the keys to the mechanic. As I turned around there was Captain Chaos standing in a puddle you could use for a boating lake! He then stated, for comedic purposes, his socks and shoes were a little wet! Of course they are, son! They are under 6 inches of rain water and, as I had no choice, I said he would have to walk home in the wet items as funnily enough I don’t carry spare socks and shoes in my pockets. Captain Chaos said he really enjoyed the squelch and I felt such a bad parent, but what could I do? Onwards we went until we turned a corner and my son found an old disused toy egg in dirt and put it into his pocket. Like a dog owner I ordered him to put the dirty toy egg down, to which he told me in no uncertain terms there was more chance of me having a baby than him dropping the egg! I tried every trick in the book, and lowered myself to bribery announcing I would buy another clean one, to which he then reluctantly put it into the bin.
As we had to kill two hours before we could collect the car I took them to a coffee shop where I forgot my little girl could read. She decided that she would have the full English cooked breakfast with more food than a supermarket and fresh juice to wash it down. I helped her out by pointing to the snack section announcing she had made a mistake. My kids were a little grumpy until I pointed out the pain au chocolat. The kids have this all the time, but amnesia had stepped in and no one had any idea of the words coming out of my mouth, so I said to the kids it was pastry filled with chocolate. At this point the kids were jumping up and down like volunteers at a food tasting session.
My little girl downed the pastry, whilst my son just looked at it claiming he had been cheated and could not see the chocolate. I broke it into two, and showed my son. He then proceeded to pick out the large chocolate chunks and said he was done! Defeated I downed my coffee stripping the lining of my throat, and paid. I took the kids to a supermarket to get a comic and a new clean toy egg with chocolate, as Chocolate Boy was clearly deprived after being cheated on the pain au chocolat. As we got out there was a charity raffle, where you pay and then choose four tickets to try and win an Easter egg. My little girl kept checking her tickets like a lottery millionaire and scrutinising the display, even though the officials said she had not won. Whilst my little girl checked for any remote chance of being cheated, my son dipped his chocolate paws in and pulled a winning ticket first time. Only my son, aka Chocolate Boy could pull this stunt and walked away with the biggest grin.
We walked back and collected the car, and the kids had a relaxing afternoon, whilst I played the role of butler, servant, cleaner, chef, chauffeur, boxing ring official, judge, jury, and gopher. Come back my genius wife you keep making this look easy and it’s not.
If anyone sees a desperate dad clinging to the window with hope that’s Dorset Dad waiting for his wife to save him!