A man holding a poo emoji toy in front of his face. Diary of the Dad - The dirty dozen.

Last month, my blog reached the grand old age of 12. I can’t quite believe it’s been around for so long – it’s a veritable digital antique now – and that I haven’t got bored of it yet.

Speaking of which, I may eventually hang up my keyboard before the next traditional landmark – although I have no plans to do so yet – so it makes sense to celebrate while I’m still going.

And how do you celebrate when you’ve written way too many blog posts? With a compilation post, of course!

Over the years, I’ve covered the grim side of parenting quite a lot so, without further ado, I give you the dirty dozen.

A man wearing a surgeon-style mask holding a dirty toothpaste lid.

Five gross things that kids do

I know, I know… how did I only come up with five? This post covers licking toothpaste lids, missing the toilet and ‘cleaning’ with snot rags.

It also includes a pre-pandemic shot of me sporting a face mask. Maybe parenting actually prepared me for the last couple of years.

Zombie eye!

There are several proud firsts we celebrate as parents. First steps, laughs and words are always highlights.

This post is about my first kid-induced corneal abrasion and subsequent bout of conjunctivitis. Awwww…

This is going to drive me potty

Ugh. Toilet training. I’m glad we’re well beyond this grim stage. I still think it would have been easier to persuade Ghengis Khan to sit on a potty than it was with oldest.

Plus nobody told me I was going to have to give a live demonstration…

Five ways my kids have made me skanky

Ah, those lovely early days. When you don’t get any sleep and inadvertently abandon your personal hygiene. It’s well worth a place in the dirty dozen.

Here’s how I ended up looking like a cross between Wolverine and Mr Twit.

A swear box

Invasion of the swearing toddler

Another proud milestone here: baby’s first swear. We’ve all been there, right? But this was both a bad one and my fault.

But, even if I say so myself, there was a superb bit of improvisation to shut it down.

That’s well sick

Ah, our first whole-family sick bug. It’s funny how projectile vomiting is really amusing until you’re on the receiving end of it.

It also served to confirm my feelings on some modern slang being somewhat questionable.

Mud kitchens: why?

Why on earth did my kids’ primary school decide to add a mud kitchen? It was rather at odds with its fairly strict uniform policy.

My kids ended up looking like they’d been to Glastonbury and contrary to the famous song, mud is not good for cooling the blood…

Two cartoon characters with photos of two little boys' faces superimposed on them.

Masters of farts

Any excuse to Photoshop my sons as South Park’s Terrance and Phillip. But, to be fair, they earned it. How?

Using the word ‘poo’ as punctuation, farting on demand and giggling like a pair of little kids. Which, to be fair, they were at the time.

Big differences between boys and girls? Not in our house

Not to be outdone by her brothers’ exploits before she was on the scene, youngest was quick to demonstrate that the so-called differences between boys and girls are nonsense.

This post features Frozen’s Queen Elsa on a different kind of throne.

A flash-in-the-pan flashback

Spoiler alert: this is another instance of me accidentally teaching one of the kids a rude word. And, no, despite being about Pancake Day, it wasn’t ‘tosser’.

Other points of interest include a huge mess in the kitchen and a small fire!

A fairytale scene with characters burping and farting and the words 'The Brothers Grim' superimposed.

The Brothers Grim

Okay, this one’s about toilet humour again. But I was too amused by the flatulent fairy tale characters in the main image to leave it out.

As the title suggests, this one’s about my older two kids retelling classic bedtime stories with a faecal twist. Nice.

The birds and bees with cuddly toys

Where do babies come from? Yes, I know you know. But how do you explain to your young children how the new baby got there?

Naturally, we turned to their cuddly toys. Actually, so did they…

This concludes my unique dirty dozen. Thanks for reading. And sorry.

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