The Boy Who Lived
byTo avoid coming across as a total drama queen (or worse, being accused of clickbait) I think it best to head into this post by stating the obvious: I’m writing it so by extension I am still alive
The blog posts which probably mean more to us than you. Our day to day stuff which, one day, our kids will look back on and laugh at. Or use in court. Or talk about with their psychiatrists.
To avoid coming across as a total drama queen (or worse, being accused of clickbait) I think it best to head into this post by stating the obvious: I’m writing it so by extension I am still alive
I can’t even remember what she did to deserve this punishment because it was, in terms of albeit criminally short sleep cycles, a week ago. However, using a far more standard definition of time, it happened last night.
I managed to make it out, but not without a little help
Big numbers, it seems to me, scare my wife.
As any considerate man would be able to tell you, Mothers Day, like mothers themselves, will always come first. Quite right too. But then it’s our turn.
We had one of the worst mornings the other day. I know this because the kids noticed something they’ve missed altogether for over a decade…
I thought we knew our son pretty well. I didn’t think it was a two way street…
You don’t want to know how many bank staff got caught up in this, but the fact one of them is now in a position of watching over the public purse is a little bit hilarious. If by hilarious you mean ‘oh boy’
Eye rolls and poor spelling are really my major contributions to our brood. Everything else is on their mother…
The first thing you’ll need to know before continuing with this little anecdote is we locked down Tracey and kids from all venturing, including attending their schools, back on the 18th of March – before it became fashionable.
“Bruce, Mrs Long just called,” Tracey’s voice came sweetly out of my phone, meaning she wanted something. “Have you seen her dog? It must have got out today and she can’t find it.”
I know it’s a cliche but whatcha gonna do?
I don’t know who I’m crankier with at the moment: our new cat, or my old wife.
It’s only four turns in 900m from school to home, but gee we can fit a lot in after school some days. Like this week we managed two surprised in the one trip.
Three hours. That’s how long it was from walking past the pet section in Kmart until we were leaving our local RSPCA with a new family member