Parenthaught - daddy blogging

In May 2014 I went from being a purveyor of fine sarcasm to being a purveyor of fine sarcasm with a baby. And then two in 2017.

My wife played quite an important role in this. 

People said fatherhood would make me less cynical. Less of a curmudgeon.

It hasn’t.

I still hate myki.

I still see no redeeming features in corporate wank.

I still think “journey” is overused at best and used to wallpaper over ineptitude at worst.

I still think cigarette companies’ logic is deeply flawed.

I still think Alan Jones played the Smith’s Gobbledok between 1987 and 1991.

I still can’t stand small talk. (Although I still do love Weis’ ice cream.)

Babies haven’t dimmed my desire to pour my brain acid into the publicly-available vessel that is Haught. But they has made me wonder whether I should try my hand at what I believe is colloquially called (and I cringe as I use the term) daddy blogging.

How does it work? It’s essentially Haught with babies.

ParentHaught: Lucy's Salon

Mum: This is a very good haircut. What will this cost, Lucy? How much? Lucy: Four and six. Me: And what about in post Victorian England currency? Mum: Oh, don't be silly, Papa. You said four hundred and six, didn't you? Lucy: Yes. Silly Papa. Naughty. Me: $406 sounds like a LOT for a haircut! Mum: Well this is more than a haircut. Me: Fair enough. So $406, Lucy? Lucy: Four and six marse-mallows. Read the post...

Remembering (Healthy) Harold and the Life Education van

...a rickety old campervan with black, felt-lined interior walls, a very low ceiling and a smell like an unwashed sock-poppet inside (I never worked out where that smell came from). This was the Life Education van, and as a primary school student, your approach to it depended entirely on what year you were in. Read the post...

Haught Take: is the rudest word "cunt"?

Other traditional insults and pointed adjectives aren't even close: fuck, shit, motherfucking, corporal javelin. Pff. My grandma uses all of them. And she's dead. She just shouts them from her grave as an animated skeleton. Read the post...

ParentHaught: Lessons learnt from the University of Fatherhood

Parenthood is a classroom like no other, and much that you learn within it is applicable to your daily life. Like saying that an audible fart was a frog noise, for example. Read the post...

ParentHaught: Marilyn the Gorgon

[My daughter and I] start throwing Duplo bricks at Mum's creepy bald doll, which is slumped in the corner of the room like a drunk auntie at a party she wasn't invited to... Read the post...

ParentHaught: "UH-OH!"

We passed the pavilion and began to climb the hill towards our house when we all noticed a cricketer having a wizzle up against a fence of a nearby house. He wasn't particularly well hidden - there was just a barely living clump of bush obscuring his dude - but we probably wouldn't have noticed him had it not been for the fact he was emitting wind with gay abandon. Read the post...

ParentHaught: how to introduce your baby to the office

A year ago, almost to this day, the stork came. It was 2.30pm on a Sunday. That evening we were cuddling a snowy-haired girl and eating stork for dinner. Well, you know how bad hospital food is. Read the post...

ParentHaught: baby rules for working mums and dads

The word “we” has absolutely no place in describing or announcing the birth. One partner goes through 8 to 30 hours of unrelenting agony before forcing a juvenile member of the species through a very small bodily opening. The other stands bedside, grimacing, patting, squeezing and cooing. There is no “we”. Read the post...