It is half-term and I am off with the kids while Mrs B continues to hack away at the coal-face from dawn until dusk. This means that what most women call day-to-day parenting becomes a huge task for a man and worthy of some kind of accolades, honours, and rewards.
As per usual, I have rashly said I will do all kinds of useful things while I am off. Chief among them are decorating a room and creating the kind of Halloween the kids now think they deserve, as if we’ve suddenly become American or something.
Those with very long memories will recall that some years ago I made our son a full-size costume for World Book Day at school of Max from Where The Wild Things Are. This involved sitting up until the small hours for about ten nights running, jabbing needles into my callused fingers and sobbing myself to sleep.
I have once again promised to make costumes. My daughter has wisely gone for the “zombie schoolgirl” look, which merely involves ripping up some old clothes and my third-best tie and splattering them with food colouring.
My son is more ambitious. He wants to go as Finn from his favourite cartoon, Adventure Time. Largely this involves shorts and a T-shirt, but Finn is possessed of a rather weird hat, kind of a trapper hat with funny little horns, or perhaps ears.
No problem, I say.
You will decorate the room, won’t you, says Mrs B?
No problem, I say. As soon as she’s gone to work I make myself several cups of coffee and scout the TV channels for old black-and-white movies, pausing only to stand and stare at the walls to be painted, rubbing my chin thoughtfully, and breaking up the occasional fight among the kids.
As I write this it is Halloween afternoon. The walls are painted. The pumpkins are about to be carved. The children are fighting somewhere. And I have made a Finn hat.
Now that is what I call parenting. I could be good at this, were I possessed of enough money not to have to go to work. Think of the coffee I could drink! Think of the old black-and-white movies I could watch! Think of the clothes I could splatter with food dye, the cartoon character costumes I could make!
I imagine I would make a rather good house-husband. Of course, Mrs B has yet to return from work. The house is, it must be said, in a bit of a state. The painting, I imagine, will not quite meet up to her exacting standards. And there is the small matter of the fact we have run out of butter, bread and milk and I haven’t yet replaced them. Though there’s plenty of time for that.
However, I am quite proud of the Finn hat. I am even considering getting dressed up myself for Halloween to accompany the kids to neighbours’ houses to mug them for sweets. After all, following the week I’ve had, I think I deserve a treat or two.