Stay-At-Home Dadism

You can’t be late for playgroup. Not if you live in the borough of Wandsworth, the most fructiferous corner of southwest Nappy-Valley. They get so full that doors have to be closed to latecomers. My three year old takes that sort of thing pretty personally.

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CBeebies bailed me out, again. The kids were too sick to go out, too well to be in bed. I practically had to rebuild the kitchen after breakfast. Urgent emails were waiting. Just as well there’s a Justin-Fletcher-shaped bat-signal installed in the TV remote.

I used to be quite snobby about CBeebies, because it encouraged people to get their kids into watching TV too early in their lives. Then we had two children and I started freelancing. Now, I get it.

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Cbeebies is easier to switch on than it is to switch off. How long I can leave it on before I am in dereliction of duty? I suppose that catching myself admiring Mr. Maker’s natty aqua-coloured sneakers might counts as a sign.

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Mums seem to be easier to talk to than dads at playgroup. Dads can be sat next to each other, working in concert to entertain each other’s children and yet, not speaking. I’m as guilty of this as all the other dads I’ve seen doing it.

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Supermarkets can double as heated playgrounds (in this weather, anyway). The baby goes up-front in the buggy; the eldest sits in the trolley behind. Other shoppers seem surprisingly tolerant of the giggling juggernaut thus created. Sometimes I actually buy groceries but mainly, I buy time. The girls are entertained and I’m not freezing.

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I saw Fiat’s marketing viral, The Fatherhood. That guy is surely going to need a bigger car. I suppose you could tow the double buggy…

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One thought on “Stay-At-Home Dadism

  1. Pingback: Stay-At-Home Dad-ism: A Clarification | The Urban Daddy

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