75 days ago
Do not tell Quincey, the larger and lazier of our two cats, who should be lying on the baby mat. When not sleeping in the baby chair, he has a new place to catch forty winks as you can see below. As for baby Jayarani: well that is not HIS problem is it?
179 days ago
I start with a baby Priti update and also a story about my Dad. Then a look at the supermarkets and £1.9 billion of our cash they should not have. Finally I note Malcolm’s optimism on vaccines and a return to normal and I explain why I think the old boy is, as is his wont, far too optimistic.
1184 days ago
It is great that gay couples can be parents and as such you have to wish Olympic diver Tom Daley and his husband the film director Lance Black the best of luck. But the BBC reportage seems to skirt around certain biological issues. We are told:
1656 days ago
Some advances in the expensive world of baby gadgets I can get into. Right now baby Joshua - now six weeks - sits on a small chair by the side of my desk. But here's the genius: it has a mechanism which makes it gently vibrate, not rock, just shake a little. And that sends the little darling off to sleep at the drop of a hat. Brilliant. Meanwhile, taking after his father, he is a rather handsome fellow don't you think?
1665 days ago
I am not sure what this suit with ears on is meant to represent. I am utterly biased but you have to admit that my five week old son - below - is very handsome is he not? Being a modest man, I can't think where he gets it from
1692 days ago
The presents for baby with no name continue to flood in. Last week saw a box arrive from the colleagues of the Mrs who had taken time off from filling the empty minds of impressionable millennials with left wing nonsense, to send us some gifts. There were flowers and chocolates for the Mrs but nothing for me as I am a patriarchal white man who exposed himself as an evil capitalist in a lecture given to the students of the Mrs. For the baby with no name there was a balloon and a small teddy.
1699 days ago
Actually I call the baby Patrick as I fear that in 40 days time when he is registered he will have another name so I shall enjoy Patrick while I can. In his first night on this planet at the hospital he was an angel. Other babies bawled he did not. However, one night does not make a lifetime.
1701 days ago
He is sleeping like an er...baby right now. Both mother and child are doing well after a 6.03 AM birth with a lovely Brexit and grammar school supporting midwife from Ulster in charge. The name is, as yet, undecided.
2698 days ago
I am bashed by a reader for standing up to the bitch with the baby on the Bristol Train in Sunday in refusing to give up my seat for her top of the range fucking buggy. Apparently I am picking on someone who is “vulnerable.” Bollocks.
Someone who lives in a big house in Bristol who can afford not only to have a baby but to buy a top of the range fucking buggy is not vulnerable. Someone who can afford to take baby & buggy up to London for a spot of Christmas shopping is not vulnerable. Yes this woman has a baby but that is her choice. It is not my choice but my obligation to pay taxes to give this pampered cow child benefit but I just have to do it.
The point is that this woman and her partner have wealth and income (as she told the whole damn train). She has choices in life. So just because he has opted to pass her bossy and selfish genes onto the next generation that does not make her vulnerable.
Those who are vulnerable are folks who cannot afford housing at all. Those, such as immigrants, made ever less welcome and more marginalised in British Society. Those who are diseased or dying. Those who have just lost their jobs and are seeking new work not welfare dependency. Those who work long hours for low wages and yet have the taxman claw too much of that back to subside women like the bitch with the baby via child benefit.
Those who are vulnerable include
2700 days ago
The trains to Bristol is jam packed. I am perched on one of those pop up seats nominally for disabled folks but in fact designed for anorexic eight year olds. I am surrounded by folks standing in the aisles and with luggage all around me. Some bitch with a baby has just got on, forcing her way through. Can you move please as I have a baby? She demanded of me. She is a bitch who is used to getting her way.
Some chap gave her a seat and perched his charming little daughter on his knee. But the bitch persisted. This space (i.e. where I am sitting) is for wheelchairs and buggies she insisted. Actually the sign says it is for wheelchairs, there is no mention of buggies. But heck the bitch has a baby so let’s not bother with the finer details.
I say that I will move some other folk’s luggage. “I don’t want you doing that she insisted – I want YOU to move”. So I must give up my seat for her fucking buggy (empty). I refused. After a 120 hour week I am confident that I feel more tired that her fucking top of the range fucking buggy.
I move some folk’s luggage and am now crammed in surrounded by a top of the range fucking buggy and everyone’s luggage. The bitch with a baby persisted: