ha ha...ha. Shut up.
It's four Ante Meridiem. I'm buzzing. But I'm buzzing on me. Well, not me, just the natural chemicals I store in the ole brain box what get released for various reasons, one of which is when the little reptile gets told by you 'I Am Happy.' It goes 'We are? Oh crikey, why's that then? Sorry; just you've not actually spoken to me for a while- in preference of fizzy powder and that throat burning liquid you seem to always be guzzling these days.' And You'll go 'Sorry about that mate, been a bit of a twazzock this last ten and a bit years, we're still mates though, right?' And it replies 'Oh, Well... Since it's you, you lovable scamp' And you go... back to the point.
I am Buzzing. And I'll tell you why. I just woke up from a happy little coma trance of fitless dreamless sleep next to a little dark haired Nena cat. Purring away, eyes shut, dreaming (of me, most likely. Honestly, she's obsessed.) sweet dreams, fingers curled around mine on the right hand, and around her belly with the other.
Because.
Because because BECAUSE... Ha.
Daddy version 2.0
I am a daddy twice. I cannot fucking believe it. I cannot actually. Fucking. Believe it.
I am a daddy again. For the second time.
Me.
Baby.
Fatherhood and myself are in alignment.
Um also I’m back. I went to Wales. I lived on breadsticks and voles I could catch luring them in with a haunting melody. I’ve been suitably chastised already but if you want you can throw a couple of YOU AWFUL AWFUL MAN’s at me if you really feel the need to; it will bounce right off me though- because I’M A DADDY. AGAIN.
I have the biggest fucking grin. It’s eclipsing the moon. Oh my word.
Nenana hast made her Joffan fery happi, jah?
Plan is this;
No more bad stuff. Carbs are definitely out. And by carbs I of course mean cocaine. I suppose. Bugger it all that’s going to be awful. Poor junkie Jon boy. Sigh. If anything carbs are IN, need to get back to 9 stone and be in peek physical physicalness for fatherhood. Because that is the hood I am entering again. Blimey.
Get a Pager. She needs a cobb salad with jelly and mustard at 5am she bloody well gets it.
Dark room needs done up to look like baby room, alternatively get bigger house. Fill it with stuffed creatures and Spot goes to the circus. And a small petting zoo and a park and a sand pit and a BIG SLIDE. And get some toys for the baby as well.
Buy Dan some sort of outrageously brilliant thank you cake. And when I say cake I should probably make that bottle of Gin. Not a normal bottle of gin mind, it has to be like... a GOLDEN bottle of gin. With diamonds. And supermodels that come and pour it for you. In bikinis. Golden bikinis. With diamonds.
Absolutely and totally no more thoughts of super models. Golden bikini clad or other. They are but mere trinkets compared to the girl by my side.
Possibly invest in golden bikini for Nena.
And self.
Stop it.
Back on track.
Cardigans. Practical AND fashionable (not like, DAN cardies, like H&M cardies.) (Ok, have not ACTUALLY seen Ashcroft in a cardie but one can presume.) because babies spit up a lot and one can just unbutton- unlike jumpers. You have to get a jumper off over your head and then I might get sick all over my face and have to kill myself. Babies can vomit on your face, but to ACCIDENTALLY get baby vom all over you is just ridiculous.
(Oh god please no...) Time to (no don't make me) maybe consider (Please, anything but that) getting a (Nooooo) sensible car. One that maybe is slightly safe. That you can put a baby seat in without making your passenger walk along side due to lack of space. Does Jag do a baby range? If not; FIND OUT WHY.
Tell Isobelle. Argh. I don't know how you do that. Possibly don't open with the line 'You know the girl I said was a vampire that gave you chocolate one time in my office when I was dating that really tall blond kid? The one that kissed me and got all flustered about that, claimed to be a social kisser and blamed me before then running off? You know, her? Yeaaahh...' Izzy is much too sensible for me to be stalling in such a way. Will she mind? I'm not sure. I know my brother did mind. But then she has never expressed any homicidal tendencies to me so possibly she won't react like he did.
Grow a beard. This is a vital part of the plan. Fathers, proper fathers need beards. It's a long standing tradition in my family you see. Well. It might have been. My Dad had a beard. I don't know if his Dad had a beard but one can only presume. It's what Welsh Jews do with their time.
Probably first though buy some shoes. I've lost mine. Anyway, they were the shoes of a man who did not know he was a daddy twice and therefor they wouldn't have suited me any more. One must not forget fashion just because one has other responsibilities.
Find out what exactly a 'Responsibility' is. It's a new thing I've not come across before but I'm a very willing learner.
Smile more.
Oh. And um. Let her know how desperately perfect she is to me every single day. For the rest of our lives.
That about covers it.
Jayyyyyyyyyyyyyy why?