So, we arrive at January 3 and I haven’t so much as wished the internet a Happy Bloomin' New Year. Ahh, well, that feels a lot better. Only a few days late. It’s not like being a couple of days behind the game is that important on the minute-by-minute evolving landscape that is the web. You’re still gonna read this because it’s Barker’s Broken Britain, right? This is timeless stuff that pierces the heart of the human condition.
Obviously, I’m going to present you with a listicle to kick off the year (what, you mean you’ve already read a few of these so far this January?). My parenting resolutions for the year – none of which will be kept in any way.
Here we go:
1.Stop trying to recreate my own sugar-free, corduroy-cladded, craft-kit infused 1970s childhood for my own kids. They like Star Wars, guns, Lego, shouting “Islamic State!” as they hurl imaginary handgrenades down the stairs and watching live-action Minecraft on Youtube. I have to, AT SOME POINT, accept this.
2. Stop having a nervous breakdown every time the 8-year-old appears to be having a nervous breakdown. THIS IS NOT HELPING.
3. Stop feeling bad about sausage. Sausage DOES NOT KILL KIDS. It makes them happy (repeat incantation) ad infinitum.
4. Stop thinking this childrearing lark is “going to get easier”. It really isn’t. Not ever, for the rest of time.
5. Start ignoring my kids when they come out with crap like “Mummy, this was the worst Christmas ever”. You’ve seen nothing yet, mate.
6. Start not giving two hoots an awful lot more. What? Me? I don’t give two hoots. Or a single hoot. I’m not a bloody owl.
7. Adopt a nonchalant stance in the face of ill-behaviour. “It simply doesn’t bother me that you just slashed your brother’s face open with a specially-adapted Chewbacca figurine" (frantically calls ambulance).
8. I’m enjoying this.
9. It’s very cathartic.
10. Hey, I reached ten. That was easy. Just like bringing up kids.