Father Of Tbe Year


Friday night is pizza night, and Destroyer has shown an obsession with chilli flakes. Up until now it’s been benign; one or two flakes sprinkled on a slice. Today, while I was distracted/stuffing pizza in my face she took matters into her own hands and covered her slice of pizza in chilli flakes. When we tried to wrest this from her, she wailed, and when we gave it back to her and she bit it, she howled even louder when the chilli hit.

To be fair, when I tried the monstrous chilli-pizza creation, it left my mouth burning and I’m not a two year old child.

We doused her with milk and she forgave me, and then I tried to get La Serpiente to tidy up her toys by telling her if she didn’t, Jason Statham would fly up on his massive, leathery wings and eat all her toys.

She didn’t tidy up, she just clutched me in abject terror.

Well, I saw “clutched”, I mean “ran headlong into me and inadvertently caused me to bite my tongue”, which is almost the same. I guess I deserved that.

My wife left rather than bear further witness to this debacle, so I put the kids in front of the TV and played them Dinosaur Trucks, which turned out to be terrifying volcanic apocalyptica when I was expecting dinosaur dump trucks and building site shenanigans. Destroyer’s psyche proved resistant to this, La Serpiente yelped and whimpered.

I guess it could be a long night.


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