Tuesday 9 March 2010

Hey look, it's the missus...

I am upstairs staring down at the toilet bowl.
It is clear from the evidence in front of me that I am not the first to visit this smallest room today, and that one (indeed, possibly both) of my children have made use of the facilities before me. We have a (haha) backlog situation.
There are two distinct camps when it comes to talking about impending fatherhood: on the one hand you have the whole "That's it, mate - your life is over" hard-drinking school of mock manly despair, and allied against them you have the whole hippy-trippy life-affirming "best thing that will ever happen to you" crowd. For my money, I could have used a more useful, practical assessment of the road ahead, so let me pass this on to impending fathers: when your kids are small, you will spend lot of time wandering around behind them, turning off the lights and running taps that they have left on, stepping on discarded Lego bricks in your bare feet, and flushing toilets.
There will certainly be moments of despair, even anguish- and yes, also wonderful golden soaring moments when your chest threatens to burst with swelling love and pride - but between these moments you will encounter a lot of food mashed into the carpet, pick up a lot of strewn clothes and watch a great many sub par Disney films. You will fruitlessly search toy shops for items that have long sold out. You will inevitably learn, through some unsought and unwanted osmosis, some of the lyrics to High School Musical, and the names of about thirty Pokemon. And for a period of about two years, you will find every toilet in your house has been mysteriously pre-used, and will contain a vile tobacco-coloured liquid that will occasionally not flush away due to the huge volume of toilet paper wedged into the U-bend.
That's the road ahead, fella - my gift to you. Pay it forward.
Of course, everyone has different mechanisms to cope with these trials: I myself like to idly imagine the death, in a huge multi-car fireball, of many of my fellow commuters on the M1 at 8.10 each morning, and I also write this blog. Which brings me, finally to the point of this post: even as I was bending a coat hanger into a suitable shape for clearing blocked sanitaryware, I could hear the tap tap tap of a keyboard downstairs.
This is because my wife now also blogs, but if you were to visit her site you would never believe (a) that we lived in the same house or (b) that she remained married to me.
This is because her blog is chock-full of nice things: of soft furnishings and ribbons, and colour swatches and LOTS of cake. She one did a post about fabric, and a woman in a trendy New York loft commented how much she liked her typeface selection. This is clearly not a world I either know or understand, but as she continually directs site traffic over here (very few visitors stick around, it must be said) it's high time I returned the favour: why not go and see what the woman who married the troll thinks about life? You can find her over here. (Warning: site may contain pictures of cushions, and also people being nice to each other)
Please tell her I sent you. I always need the brownie points...


Bart said...

love and price - was this a typo?

PDC said...

@Bart: Yes, it was. Or was it FREUDIAN TYPING..?

Kate Snape said...

At least Nini's blog is bright and cheerful. However yours is funnier.
The Inlaws

Kate Snape said...

At least Nini's blog is bright and cheerful. However yours is funnier.
The Inlaws

Anna said...

I found your blog through hers, last week. Been backreading and enjoying them both very much.

I don't dare to analyse what the significance is of liking such different blogs. Let alone of writing them in the same household!

ps. I am not a big blogreader, there are about 4 I read and can remember the url of 2 of them (not yours)

Natasha said...

I can bring the funny too!

Heather said...

I must say. I think I will stick around. I came to her blog from Cake Wrecks (though her's was undoubtedly NOT a wreck) and your blog from her's and so far it's all quite amusing. My husband and I have a 3 year old and a 1 year old and I can say that I can relate to lots of what you say. Just switch out the M1 at 8.10 with the 610 loop or IH-59 northbound at 5 (houston, tx) and you have my life... you have to mix in a little cake though too.

Traceyr said...

I was directed to you by your very talented wife after reading a post about your wedding 10 years previously. Aaaah.

Very amusing your blog is and as a mother to two teenagers I can remember those early years well. But I am afraid the teenager years are the worst.

Just something for you to look forward to!