I still don’t want kids

I’ve had some magical moments over the last couple of weeks while I’ve been here in Toronto. I’ve got to know my two nieces, I’ve spent some quality time with my sister for the first time since I left home back in 1988 and I’ve had a fantastic time in a wonderful city.

There is one over-riding factor though that has strengthened one of my life edicts. Small children appear to be a never-ending supply of shit, piss and puke – as fast as you’re shovelling food in their mouths they’re already considering how it’s going to reappear, and where the most inconvenient place for them to leave it is. They’re little bastards and they do it on purpose.

Don’t get me wrong, being an Uncle is the best thing for me. Becoming a Dad just lumbers you with nappy changes, wiping poo from your bedclothes and hoping that the puddle on the kitchen floor is apple juice. I get to do all the good stuff, like making snowmen abd playing basketball, while their parents get to wash their hands more frequently and smell slightly of wee on occasions.

I love these two kids to bits. I’ll be back here before too long so that Uncle Davey can spend more time with his sister and two little nieces (plus brother in-law) and I’ll miss them all when I come back to the UK this weekend. It’s just really good that I can hand them back when they start screaming.

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