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Life can be pretty funny- although sometimes you have to dig deep to find the humour. Often, people don’t get it. Have you ever been asked “Why are men like that?” as if you should know the answer? Why does my family laugh if I injure myself? Why should a man never be trusted to shop for clothes on his own? From the dawn of civilization, we have pondered these mysteries: Could a being as uncomplicated as a husband have found the key? Nah, but he has fun trying…
   

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Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Over the Wild, wild Ocean

You can imagine the chaos- the unraveling of the house, the slow collapse of all that is recognizably human. In a few short days I have gone from being the person I was- just the normal guy sitting next to you on the train- to being unhinged- like Kurtz in Apocalypse now, or some other equally deranged person.

See, Neen is away. For ten weeks.

I’m like a mad grown-up version of McCauley Caulkin in Home Alone, except for one thing: I’m not alone.

I have the three children.

At least, they were children. Now they are like feral creatures circling the outskirts of the forest, looking for a vulnerable place to attack. I’m onto their little games, I can read their menacing tactics, and outsmart them in an instant. I know how to suppress the fear of their sharp little teeth (ok, so maybe I forgot to order them to brush their teeth once or four times- so shoot me), their beady little eyes (ok, so maybe I have asked uncle TV to baby-sit while I ascend the Himalayas of ironing) and their wicked claws (No shame here- I have a thing about cutting their nails- Neen has always done it- I’m terrified of lopping off a tiny digit instead of an over-long talon).

 

By the time she returns we’ll have devolved into hairy swamp creatures living off the green stuff in the sink and the back of the fridge.

 

I crave adult company, but because of the constant effort of speaking in a Barney the Dinosaur voice, I am unable to converse with people who are larger than hobbits. I nearly got arrested for trying to hug the postman the other day. Ok, so that’s a lie, but he did say ‘hello’ in a way that seemed to invite a bigger response than ‘hi’.

 

Somehow the house has managed to rival the Cape Town landfill- I expect to find surgical waste and seagulls squabbling over chunks of decaying flesh in the lounge.

 

So, they’ll find me, holding a home-made club fashioned from the decapitated torso of a Barbie doll, and signing my name in blood in the endless homework books. The children will be wearing crowns fashioned from take-out containers, and bickering over the borders to their kingdoms.

 

This parenting thing aint as easy as it looks.


Posted at 06:44 pm by SGDBlog

scott
February 25, 2009   08:37 PM PST
 
Thanks, Brandy
I maaaaay have used a little poetic license here- the children and I are fine.
brandy101
February 25, 2009   06:51 PM PST
 
you will be fine, as will the kiddies.

Welcome back to blogworld, Scott!
 

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