The writing is on the wall, there is nothing we can do, this is life and we just need to suck this up, but seriously Twin 1 is turning into a right fucking drama queen.
At just 18 months old she is the complete opposite to her sister Twin 2, the facial expressions are nothing less than an award winning actress and with the vocal range of an opera singer, there is never a quiet moment.
Twin 2 however is the silent ninja, this afternoon she came in for one of her loving cuddles but somewhere between the cuddle and the kiss she took the opportunity to bite the shit out of my left nipple.
My body is broken, at 4 years old Teddy still isn’t bored of punching me in the balls, bringing me to my knees and then often finishing me off with a fart in the face.
On a more positive Twin 1 is starting to walk, and with every second, third and more recently fourth step the excitement gets too much and we collapse on the floor, but then with an immediate double fist punch into the air, this is what parenting is all about.
However, the inner child never disappears, car journeys are a traumatic experience with at least one child not being happy at being strapped in the only way to regain control is through listening to the monotonous shite which is either nursery rhymes or more recently singing the alphabet, but here lies the issue.
Is it really wrong to add your own words, to spice things up a little, with mummy and me rapping the shit out of the songs like gangsters, yet were 39 and 35 and driving around in a 7 seat mum bus.
Today I took this to another level, maybe it was the excitement of finally seeing the bear at Chester Zoo (14 visits and today we finally see him). It would appear that the collective favourite from the children is a song which sings the alphabet – but during the song you are asked to help name words that begin with particular letters, so for example D, this would be Dog, F would be Fish and so on. But aged 39 you just can’t help yourself, so T which is Tree gets replaced with Tosser, my favourite of the day was B, no not ball like the over enthusiastic singers announced, but from daddy this was Bellend.
My left arm is still sore and I expect that the bruise should be fully exposed by tomorrow morning, even through spits of laughter my wife still managed to connect with a perfect punch.
So, another week is over and here I am enjoying a Vodka and Lemonade before my working week starts tomorrow, drinking on a school night is neither smart nor clever, but Vodka at least makes the world taste better.