The Flagging Dad

Jan 26

Jan 26 Frozen Party

Andy Carter

“I don’t like Frozen anymore, Daddy,” Jacob declared less than a week before his 100% Frozen-themed 4th birthday party.

“But you’ve loved it for the past year? Could you not just hang in there for a bit longer, buddy?”

“It’s boring. I only like animals now.”

“Can you not like Frozen and animals?”

“Don’t be so silly, Daddy.”

As if this revelation wasn’t enough of a headache, the day before the party, I was handed a shopping list so complex it felt like I was participating in a task on The Apprentice.

Jan 8

Jan 8 January: The Least Wonderful Time of the Year

Andy Carter

With the boys’ birthdays falling on either side of Christmas, life becomes a relentless stream of delivery men from November to January. Aside from one chap who I like – he calls me “my guy” and makes me feel young again – I will be glad when this period is over, and I can work from home without having to leave meetings to answer the door to men dropping off Lion King tepees.

Dec 4

Dec 4 Countdown to Christmas

Andy Carter

On Friday morning, the boys burst into our bedroom, shouting, and within approximately 12 seconds, Joshua had located the advent calendars I had hidden behind an armchair.

‘They were meant to be a surprise for later,’ I said glumly as he stuffed a chocolate into his face and Jacob started tearing numerous windows open.

‘What are you doing, Jacob? It’s one day at a time. You know this.’

‘No, I don’t!’ he shouted, then had the audacity to shove a second chocolate into his mouth before starting to cry.

Nov 21

Nov 21 Day Out in Blackpool

Andy Carter

I struggled to open our lockers with my electrical wristband for slightly too long and started to lose my rag/did lose my rag.

‘Why is life so complicated these days? There was nothing wrong with the £1 locker system.’

Louise took my wristband from me, immediately opened the door, and looked, for a few seconds, like she no longer loved me.

Jan 12

Jan 12 York! York! York!

Andy Carter

We arrived at York station at 10 am where a group of teenage girls disembarked, glugging large bottles of WKD and shouting “York! York! York!”

“Do you think they are going to have a better day than us?” I asked Louise.

“No, definitely not,” Louise said, struggling for signal on her phone to find directions to the Railway museum.

I didn’t answer my own question.