I’ve put my neck out. Or not my neck. It’s below my neck. Between my shoulder blades. I can’t work out exactly where because every time I raise an arm to reach over my shoulders to find the epicentre, or try to feed an arm up from underneath, I yelp. It’s sore. I’m stiff. I have to turn my whole body round when I want to look left or right, tie my shoelaces blind.
Read MoreSecretly, I was a little jealous that our boy wasn’t the centre of attention, but he’s making up for that now. He’s punching the underside of my chin with surprising force and I’m trying my best to look blasé. If he knocks me out, that’s his problem. I would prefer oblivion to this itchy hyper-consciousness.
Read MoreWild hair? Ah, you must be looking for the Super Pooper range. Still bald at 18 months? Let me just check the stockroom. Three eyes? Erm, have you tried this website?
Read MoreJust the other day I was out hunting in Glasgow and returned home defeated and empty-handed. It’s funny the way people look at you when you’re hiding behind the bins with a spear and face paint, trying to do your bit for the family.
Read MoreThey have already said their goodbyes, it seems, and waved us off on the slow boat to Family Land. But they can’t take away their cards. The mantelpiece is crammed with them, as is the top of the piano.
Read MoreI click on various tracks in the iTunes library to test my theory. When I play some second-rate Ibiza chillout track, he looks out at the clouds. For Radiohead, his expression is like that of many Radiohead fans at the group’s concerts: he looks at his belly button, then glumly into the middle distance.
Read MoreThe Surrealists, in the 1930s, had a novel approach to sleeping. It involved replacing the standard eight-hour block with 15-minute snoozes throughout the day and night. Picasso apparently swore by it. Salvador Dali, another great proponent of the scheme, suggested settling on an uncomfortable chair, a big key in one hand, a heavy book in the other.
Read MoreHis first meaningful action involves peeing deftly into his own face and mine, and only narrowly missing that of Jaffar the cat, who miaows and dives under the bed.
Read MoreThe only time waiting is spun as a good thing is in hardware stores, where signs promise to cut keys “while you wait”. What an odd concept. Isn’t everything done while you wait? Houses are built while you wait. Queues gradually get shorter while you wait. Life circles round the plug-hole and disappears down the drainpipe while you wait.
Read MoreI relay my findings to one of my deviant associates (he is a model citizen otherwise) who informs me that there is a whole sub-genre in the porn world dedicated to pregnant women – or rather to men who like looking at pictures of pregnant women in a state of undress.
Read More“That’s a wee penis,” says the trainee. It’s not wee, proportionally speaking, but I can see what she’s referring to. A penis ... It’s a boy! “We can only be 80% sure,” says the nurse.
Read MoreHandily, the book has a detailed checklist of what should be in The Bag. But now I can’t find the bloody book. I remember it had something about pyjamas and snacks, but nothing else.
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