Day 52
Hello children; are you sitting comfortably?
Good.
Then I shall begin.
Once upon a time in a land far, far away there was a wicked old witch with a horrible little cat. One day the wicked old witch came home from doing whatever nasty things witches do when they’re out, and struck up a conversation with a handsome prince.
“Hello handsome prince” she said.
“Hello wicked old bag” he replied.
“Before you married my beautiful daughter you we’re just a dirty little Snowman with a breast fixation weren’t you?” she asked
“Yes I was” said the prince
“And my daughter gave you a magic kiss, sprinkled you with pixie dust and you turned into a handsome prince didn’t you” enquired the witch
“Yes I did,” he agreed
“So how come you’re still such a fucking idiot?”
With this, the wicked old witch clicked her scabby old fingers and the handsome prince turned back into a Snowman.
The Snowman shrugged his shoulders and considered the witches words.
He may not have been a complete idiot but he was certainly misguided in one of his actions during the day.
And so the Snowman carried on with his life, the wicked old witch and the horrible little cat continued to persecute the Snowman with delight and the beautiful princess wondered (as she did every day) what on Earth possessed her to marry him.
And they all lived, with varying degrees of contentment, happily ever after.
The End.
Not perhaps the most inspiring of fairy tales but one which has a moral which should be embraced by all men:
When you do something really dim; keep your fucking mouth shut.
This is certainly what I should have done after I agreed to baby sit Small Child for twenty minutes this afternoon.
Apart from one specific exception, animals and children seem to like me (for the life of me I can’t figure out why) and it was possibly for this reason that Surrogate Daughter asked if I would look after the infant while she nipped out to the shops.
Piece of cake.
Small Child was thrust at me and seemed quite happy while it gurgled, farted and dribbled over my shirt. It was making various other baby noises and seemed unconcerned that its mother had temporarily left it my charge.
After five minutes or so of it gleefully bouncing up and down on my bladder I had a desperate requirement to visit the toilet so planted it in one of those ‘baby walkers’ while I left the room.
For those of you who don’t know, a baby walker is a sling type affair (where a bay can sit) with a tray at the front containing all manner of bells and whistles to keep the said infant occupied. I was certain it would be perfectly safe for about thirty seconds while I ran to the bathroom.
Wrong.
There is one other factor that I neglected to take into account.
Baby walkers have wheels on them.
Rather than its legs dangling harmlessly underneath the contraption, it was able to place them firmly on the ground and whiz around like a getaway driver in a Ferrari.
I couldn’t have been gone more than half a minute but when I got back the living room looked fractionally different from when I’d left it.
There’s a scene in ‘Alien’ when the monster bleeds and it starts to eat through the hull of the spaceship…but this is nothing in comparison to what can be ejected by an average infant.
Small child had used its vehicle to spread vomit like the delivery system of a farmyard muck spreader.
It was everywhere.
Baby sick has the molecular properties of nitric acid and causes equally as much damage. Needless to say, Surrogate Daughter was fully aware of this and explained it to me in no uncertain terms on her return. Unfortunately, mother-in-law also had a word or two of wisdom (see fairy tale above) as she wandered in at the precise moment when we were cleaning it all up.
Faced with two irate women, a screaming child and several tons of sick I did the only thing a brave and courageous man would do under such circumstances.
I went to the pub.
You will not be surprised to hear I didn’t enter any freerolls today, as I didn’t dare venture back until the early hours, so will have to report my poker activities tomorrow. My impending hangover may have reduced sufficiently in order for me to play by that time so there’s a good chance I will impart some better then.
When I did finally get back I flicked through the television channels and found a documentary theorizing that extra-terrestrials were responsible for the Egyptian pyramids and Stonehenge. I can offer an alternative hypothesis:
Newborn children are replaced with alien life forms in hospital baby units soon after birth and then given back to unsuspecting mothers as part of a conspiracy to take over the World. They then grow up and never quite integrate properly into human society but try to slide their way into various walks of life in order to fuck up the next generation with their genes.
You might think that’s a ludicrous notion but I leave you with one thought:
Paris Hilton.
See what I mean?
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $1.76
Good.
Then I shall begin.
Once upon a time in a land far, far away there was a wicked old witch with a horrible little cat. One day the wicked old witch came home from doing whatever nasty things witches do when they’re out, and struck up a conversation with a handsome prince.
“Hello handsome prince” she said.
“Hello wicked old bag” he replied.
“Before you married my beautiful daughter you we’re just a dirty little Snowman with a breast fixation weren’t you?” she asked
“Yes I was” said the prince
“And my daughter gave you a magic kiss, sprinkled you with pixie dust and you turned into a handsome prince didn’t you” enquired the witch
“Yes I did,” he agreed
“So how come you’re still such a fucking idiot?”
With this, the wicked old witch clicked her scabby old fingers and the handsome prince turned back into a Snowman.
The Snowman shrugged his shoulders and considered the witches words.
He may not have been a complete idiot but he was certainly misguided in one of his actions during the day.
And so the Snowman carried on with his life, the wicked old witch and the horrible little cat continued to persecute the Snowman with delight and the beautiful princess wondered (as she did every day) what on Earth possessed her to marry him.
And they all lived, with varying degrees of contentment, happily ever after.
The End.
Not perhaps the most inspiring of fairy tales but one which has a moral which should be embraced by all men:
When you do something really dim; keep your fucking mouth shut.
This is certainly what I should have done after I agreed to baby sit Small Child for twenty minutes this afternoon.
Apart from one specific exception, animals and children seem to like me (for the life of me I can’t figure out why) and it was possibly for this reason that Surrogate Daughter asked if I would look after the infant while she nipped out to the shops.
Piece of cake.
Small Child was thrust at me and seemed quite happy while it gurgled, farted and dribbled over my shirt. It was making various other baby noises and seemed unconcerned that its mother had temporarily left it my charge.
After five minutes or so of it gleefully bouncing up and down on my bladder I had a desperate requirement to visit the toilet so planted it in one of those ‘baby walkers’ while I left the room.
For those of you who don’t know, a baby walker is a sling type affair (where a bay can sit) with a tray at the front containing all manner of bells and whistles to keep the said infant occupied. I was certain it would be perfectly safe for about thirty seconds while I ran to the bathroom.
Wrong.
There is one other factor that I neglected to take into account.
Baby walkers have wheels on them.
Rather than its legs dangling harmlessly underneath the contraption, it was able to place them firmly on the ground and whiz around like a getaway driver in a Ferrari.
I couldn’t have been gone more than half a minute but when I got back the living room looked fractionally different from when I’d left it.
There’s a scene in ‘Alien’ when the monster bleeds and it starts to eat through the hull of the spaceship…but this is nothing in comparison to what can be ejected by an average infant.
Small child had used its vehicle to spread vomit like the delivery system of a farmyard muck spreader.
It was everywhere.
Baby sick has the molecular properties of nitric acid and causes equally as much damage. Needless to say, Surrogate Daughter was fully aware of this and explained it to me in no uncertain terms on her return. Unfortunately, mother-in-law also had a word or two of wisdom (see fairy tale above) as she wandered in at the precise moment when we were cleaning it all up.
Faced with two irate women, a screaming child and several tons of sick I did the only thing a brave and courageous man would do under such circumstances.
I went to the pub.
You will not be surprised to hear I didn’t enter any freerolls today, as I didn’t dare venture back until the early hours, so will have to report my poker activities tomorrow. My impending hangover may have reduced sufficiently in order for me to play by that time so there’s a good chance I will impart some better then.
When I did finally get back I flicked through the television channels and found a documentary theorizing that extra-terrestrials were responsible for the Egyptian pyramids and Stonehenge. I can offer an alternative hypothesis:
Newborn children are replaced with alien life forms in hospital baby units soon after birth and then given back to unsuspecting mothers as part of a conspiracy to take over the World. They then grow up and never quite integrate properly into human society but try to slide their way into various walks of life in order to fuck up the next generation with their genes.
You might think that’s a ludicrous notion but I leave you with one thought:
Paris Hilton.
See what I mean?
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $1.76
