Taking the Michael...

Taking the piss Michael.

Hey! You kids!!! <Shakes fist at kids>

Put that down! That's an original Stipe that is, put it down!

<Notices what’s happened already to the Flatley>

That’s just wrong… No one's that flexible…

<Spots the Caine>

Aw gawd no… not the Caine… stuffed through the bloody front doors…

The irony...

It’s cockney rhyming slang ain't it... Taking the Michael... Michael Bliss... Taking the piss.

Maddest Best language EVER! 
(FYI I have no idea who Michael / Mickey Bliss is)

Anyhoo...

What ever happened to good old days?

When Dad's got loads of respect from their families. When Dad's ruled the house with an iron fist, from their office, smoking a pipe, writing witticisms, discussing cricket, being incredibly British. When did all that stop? I think I could have been good at that.

Oh yeah... that was it… It stopped when men stopped being such dicks realised we actually wanted to be loved, and not just feared by the women and children in our lives. 

It was probably then. 
And some bad press from Daddy Pig, the useless bastard.

(SOOOOOOOD OFF Yes, yes, I have been wondering what my mobile upgrade options may be… 
I will never buy anything from you soul suckers Hmmm, very interesting… )

Still...

The scales can tip too far to compensate. I feel a reasonable amount of respect from the rest of family isn't too much to ask. Dads have feelings too you know.

We may seem rock hard and mega tough, almost emotionless, granite, stoic, wall like creatures..

But you know what…  We're not.

I'm certainly not. I'm special.

Boy8: ‘What's Dad blubbing about now?’

Miss5: ‘He’s watching Danger Mouse

Boy8: ‘Who let him watch that?‘

Miss5: <Shrugs> <Hides remote behind back>

Boy8: ‘It's one of his childhood cartoons... they've rebooted it!!!’

Miss5: 'OH BUM!'

<Both giggle>

Miss5: ‘There should be some kind of Dad warning... I thought it was a new cartoon!

Miss5: ‘How's he taking it...?’

Boy8: ‘Blubbing’

Miss5: ‘Happy blubbing?’

Boy8: ‘It’s hard to say… He seems happy enough then all of a sudden he shudders and shouts out 'David Jason' and starts blubbing again’

Miss5: ‘I'll get the emergency chocs’

Boy8: <Nods> ‘Good idea... Both boxes…’

It’s not that I need to feel like a king in my own home.

I accept those days are gone. Long gone. Crowns ain't cheap, courts are tiring to maintain, and the Police would start asking questions as people disappeared.

Anyway being vaguely in joint charge with Mrs. Amazing as half of the awesome crime duo Team Parents (yay!) is mostly what I want and aspire to. I love them all very much and am for the most part delighted to be hanging out with them all.

It’s just that every now and then…
Well there can be a bit too much Michael being removed for my liking. Some days they just bring a truck and load it up.

See for yourself… (and by see, I mean read and imagine because it’s mainly skits, so not really see at all, more a commencement of a short play… <Bows> Ice cream after the first innings...)

BabyBoy1

Still taking his first baby steps in taking the wee wee... bless ‘im, he’s picking it up quick...

<Points at me> 'DaaDee'

<Heart fills with pride and love for my lovely little boy>

<Picks BabyBoy1 up and skips man walks off with him>

<Points at the Cat> 'DaaDee'

Er no… Cat-C-C-at…

<Points at the dishwasher> 'DaaDee'

Er... No...

<Points at the table> 'DaaDee'

Nope...

<Puts BabyBoy1 down>

<Points at the floor> 'DaaDee'

<Sobs Man growls>

The Cat

The Official Piss Taking Mascot since 2006 - Ten joyous years!

Cat: ‘Meow’ *(‘Feed me, ya giant pink idiot’)

I've feed you already

Cat: ‘Meow’ *(‘Feed me hairless or FEEL MY WRATH’) <Tries tripping me>

You've got food!

Cat: ‘Meow’ *(‘And... if I push juuuuust here. HA!’)’ <Tries tripping me again>

It's there <Points> Look!

Cat: <Trips me>

I'm not feeding you again

Cat: <Trips, claws, attacks stuff, acts mad>

Fine! Whatever! <Is angry>

<Says it meanly> I hope you get fat!

Cat: ‘Meow’ *(‘I would love that! You twonk’)

<Crosses paws>

Miss5

In line to be Grand Universal Lordette of Michael taking... But will have to wait for the other two to stop their tireless efforts and drop their game...

Miss5: 'I got gold (level achievement) at school today!'

[We all cheer for her, except BabyBoy1, he's just cheering]

<Miss5 starts high fiving everyone>

Boy8: 'YEAH!' <Gets a Miss5 high five>

BabyBoy1: 'AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!' *(‘Congratulations long hair sibling of mine’)

Mrs. Amazing: 'Well done!' <High five turns into high tens, twenties, thirties>

<Miss5 stops when she gets to me>

Come on! Don't leave me hanging! <Is too eager>
YEAH GOLD!

<Miss5 presses her index finger on my hanging five>

A high one? Really?

Stupid high ones.

(No word of a lie, this is from the Wiki page on ‘High Five’s and the ‘Too Slow’ variation)

(So utterly love Wiki for stuff like this. Please visit the page for the full brilliance of her 'I was too slow' face. Marvellous)

Boy8

The Crown Prince of Mickey Taking Land

Boy8: 'Dad?'

Yeeeeessss

'Can I watch a film?'

It's 7am <Said to rhyme with no>

'So?' <Without any hint of sarcasm>

It's saturday morning. You've already spend the first hour of the day watching cartoons

'So!'

No. No film. No. No. NO

'Star Wars?'

Er...

'Empire Strikes back?;

... Er… <Ponders> 
Don’t you try and get round me like that!…  No. No film!

'OK Dad, fair enough' <Leaves looking downcast, but fine really>

[From elsewhere in the house]

Boy8: 'Mum can I watch a movie?'

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Yeah! Movie morning! I'll make popcorn you set it up!!!’

Everyone but me: 'YAYYY!'

Mrs. Amazing

A surprise entry here, to be sure. Team Parents (yay!) are normally as thick as thieves. But much like when I suddenly remember I am out tonight, the night after, the night after and did I mention all the kids need fancy dress for a party on Saturday, theme 'Dodecahedron'.

Mrs. Amazing too has her moments of being Queen of Michael, Mickey and Mike removals. The lovely swine.

[Me at work. Actually Working. Finger not up nose]

[Phone rings]

What the hell is that noise? 
<Stands> When the hell did I get a phone? <Answers> <Sits>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Hi Darling'
Who devil is this?

S'up ma shizzle, ya fizzle rock' ma dizzle? 
Hi Darling. What's up? Need wine?

'I was wondering if... rather than meet you at home after work...'

Yes... <Nods yes at workmate for a cuppa>

'You wouldn't mind popping into my Mum's first?'

Can I not? Sure, no problem... Any reason?

<Mimes WTAF at milky tea workmate delivered> <Rude hand gestures from all parties>

'Well, I'm here with kids, my sister is here, with her kids, and the kids are all happy and playing, and having their tea (supper)'

OK... <Is suspicious> ... if it wou...

Auntie Amazing: 'Can I open the wine?'
Auntie Amazing: 'Has he said yes yet?'

...

'shutupshutup...'

'...'

<Sighs and notices there's an hour of work left to go>

<Receives utterly black tea from sarcastic workmate, who sticks out tongue>

<Headache starts> To summarise...

You want me to come to your mothers, and pick you,and the kids, up, straight after work, so you can get whamed have a small tipple with your sister, right now?

'Yes'

... Fine... Husband taxis will be there a-sap

‘Thanks! Love you!’ <Hangs up>

<Carries on talking anyway>

... Happy to help... I love you too...

… You've probably had a hard day too...

… I wasn't feeling knackered that much anyway…

<Carries on working>

<Sobs a little>

(Are you talking to me? 
No? Oh right… <Drives off to Tap Gun class>)

Parentday (née Friday night) (née Mother's Day)...

Mother’s Day.

It’s a tricky one.

A part of me feels that celebrating mothers on just one day of the year is a bit wrong.

What about the other days of the year?

If we put aside just one day of the year for Mum’s. Aren't we automatically saying we don’t have to celebrate them for the rest of year.

I quite like my Mum. She's pretty cool. I feel that her growing me and putting me on this planet has, in some ways, really contributed to my health and well being. I feel that saying thanks to her on just one day a year, is a bit pants, really.

Same for Mrs. Amazing and she made three of my favourite people - Boy8, Miss5, BabyBoy1. 

Note... MADE! That is definitely worth celebrating more than once a year. Twice at least.

And surely we can do better than a Sunday in March for Mums?

Why isn't Mother's Day in mid-Summer time? That would be nicer.

We could have a picnic with beer. 
Mums love that outdoors crap picnics!

(‘What else did you bring?’ Nothing? Why?

‘What about the kids?’ They're sharing... yours… not mine…)

How about if... instead of it being a Mothering Sunday.

We changed it to a Friday night instead? 
That would be better. More pubs open. 
And include the Dads too. Call it Parents Night if you like.

The Dads could get the rounds in and buy nuts and stuff. We’re all in this together anyway. Team Parents (yay!) and all that.

True. Only one half of Team Parents (yay!) actually pushed a person out of them and feed them using only their bodily fluids. But I've compensated for that already.

As I said… The Dads will get the rounds in.

And going out on the razzle Parents Night could be a bit more frequent.

I mean if it’s Mum’s and Dad’s together. That’s a fair percentage of the population. Most of the parents I would say.

So, as I feel we would all agree, let’s change it from a yearly thing. To a weekly thing! Hooray!

Show of hands… Motion carried. Weekly. Nice.

In fact every Friday, all day, should be an extra day off for parents. No work. Child care is free. Half price taxis.

One whole lovely day when Team Parents (yay!) don’t have to adult at all. We could write, not lesson plans like teaching, but instead, parents plans for the kids. Actually good at parenting.

We could sleep! We could actually catch up on your sleep. 
AH AH AH I WANT THAT AHHHHHHH!!! <Runs randomly>

Can you imagine a world where all the parents actually got enough sleep and a chance to reflect on how to parent? Imagine less annoying children would be what the human race would achieve!

I admit. 

I may not have thought everything through, there may be a few teething issues. A few tweaks needed here and there. But it definitely feels like a runner to me.

Every Friday becomes an EXTRA WEEKLY day off for parents. Three day weekend.

“Parentday - So they're less knackered” - #WinningSlogan

<Turns off projector>

Well what do you think?

<Mrs. Amazing looks stunned>

Mind blowing, I KNOW!

‘Let me see if I have this straight…’

<Is grinning>

‘You want to pitch this at work, to your boss, tomorrow?’

Yes! <Is proud of self>

‘Despite the fact it’s clearly a dumb idea’

yes… ohh… <Proudness leaving>

‘And you woke me on Mother's Day…’

Er… <Has regrets>

‘... at 7am to tell me this...’

<Lots of regrets, big, big, regrets> ... Err … <Considers running>

[Boy8, Miss4, BabyBoy1 troop in]

Boy8: ‘We all made you this card, and got you these flowers. We love you Mum’

‘Oh they are lovely! Thank you. I love you all too’ <Kisses all round>

Boy8: ‘We all thought Dad’s plan was stupid’

<All nod>

Boy8: ‘He made us wear these t-shirts’

<Boy8 shows t-shirt saying ‘Parentday - Make mine a double!’>

<Miss4 shows t-shirt saying ‘Parentday - Because no sleep is madness!’>

<BabyBoy1 shows t-shirt saying ‘Parentday - Because they’re worth it!’>

<Mrs. Amazing looks at me dumbfounded>

‘You…’

<Prepares for the worst>

‘… you know... I like the t-shirts… you might have something there....’

It's probably chocolate

‘… and it would be every Friday?’

You mean every Parentday!

X (That's a kiss, not a treasure marker...)

Crawling... Again?

Well that was weird.

I'm entirely sure how I ended up doing that.

My knees hurt. Fool.

During the normal morning madness.

Mrs. Amazing was busy convincing Miss5, that clothes are actually, very much, an requirement for school, and the UK at the start of march. (It even crap snowed today) (Crap snow is snow that doesn't settle).

Miss5 was slowly relenting and had even consented to having her crazy mane de-tangled.

(If you don’t hear from me every five minutes, start wafting pie smell after me…)

Boy8 was busy getting ready.

Not for school. Oh no. Nothing that obv. 

Why would he get ready for school on a school day through his own free will?

<Screams into cushion>

Despite all of us rushing about to get to work and / or school on time. Boy8 was getting ready for his mate who was coming for tea tonight. He was laying out his toys ready. They were going to have a Nerf war.

Which basically means Boy8 was laying out guns. On his bed.

I had mixed feelings about it.

On the one hand I totally understood his need to prepare and lay out his toys ready for his mate. I put beers in the fridge when a mate is coming round, find the Yahtzee dice, make sure everyone else is either asleep or going out... 

But on the second hand I wasn't too happy that BabyBoy1 was with Boy8 and lots of cocked Nerf guns. BabyBoy1 doesn't understand the danger of guns on any level. 

In an almost comic style BabyBoy1 was inspecting each gun backwards, looking into the barrel.

Boy8 pointed out they weren't loaded. 

Which they were not. I checked.

I said that was good, but it would be better if he didn't cock them either.

He disagreed for the last time.

And on the third, mutated weird ass, hand.

Boy8 was still hanging about in his tiger onesie, miles behind the rest of us getting ready to leave.

As I said mixed feelings: Sort of anger, amazement, murderous rage, fear and a slight tinge of gassiness. But that was probably the pint of sweets I had the night before.

All those feelings mixed together. JOY!

But I was cool. HEY! 

I made my point about the cocking of guns in a mature and grown up fashion.

Dude don't cock the guns, it ain't cool

Boy8: ‘Is’

It is not (ZING!)

‘Is’

Is not times infinity, not come backs, infinity add one, you can't talk until someone says your name, cross your pants, you need the loo, opps you've done a poo (BOOMPOW!)

<Knows he has been beaten> ‘Fine’

<Does victory dance>

(Next time... I'll just show him my mug...)

I played it cool.

Rather than nag or whip cajole Boy8 to get ready. I just left him to it.

He had thirty mins. He had time. Me shouting at him, was just going to annoy me.

I KNOW I am starting to think he likes winding me up.

So me and BabyBoy1 left the armoury Boy8’s room and headed downstairs.

For some reason we started playing with a bouncy ball in the kitchen. Fun mainly.

Looking back it seems a strange choice of toy as BabyBoy1 has just started throwing toys in anger, and for attention. So I doubt my choice of game went down to well in the Mrs. Amazing camp, as she spends most of the day in his delightful company. Whoops.

I fished a bouncy ball out a classic Miss5 treasure bag. There's always one within two metre radius, anywhere in the house.

You just have to know what to look for. A bag of crap.

The weird bit was that BabyBoy1 crawled after the ball.

He's been walking for a while now. So why would he crawl?

He's way faster on foot. Maybe he had just fallen into a crawl and remembered an old skill he had and just on whim thought it would be a laugh.

Then when I started crawling behind, and we giggled, I perpetuated it, and he couldn't stop as it became part of the game.

I like to think it was that, as we had great fun chasing that ball about, in a few stolen morning moments together.

It was nice.

Because if it's not that.

If it’s not by accident lie reason, the it’s pretty likely that BabyBoy1 saw just how much crawling was hurting my knees and he thought it was funny. And that he was faster than me at it.

Hmmm…

<Makes note next to BabyBoy1’s name> Possible sadist…fast crawler...

Boy8 was ready for school on time. He can sleep inside some more! 

Ignoring his glacial slowness this morning was a good move by me, a rare splodge of wisdom, on my part. It saved a fight.

It was bloody hard not to order him about and tell him he was being a fool.

But I'm glad I refrained.

Of course it was only after I had dropped off Miss5 at school that I noticed my knees and the bottom half of my jeans were covered in breakfast food, and general muck from the crawling.

I like to make a good impression.
<Makes note next to own name> Could possibly sweep more… appearance issues...

(My note book... I also write my poems in it...)