Browsing CategoryA Mans World

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I’ve got to face the facts. I’m old. I’m not getting old. I simply somehow got old. And to be honest I don’t like it very much. This is my first blog post of the year for ZmG and, I don’t know about you, but the first post of a new year always feels like a hard one to get out, as the actress said to the Bishop. It’s like the Christmas break robs you of inspiration, makes you hypercritical of your abilities, and you sit and question whether to ever put fingers to keyboard again. Surely a New Year…

Star Wars

The most important decision we make for our children isn’t their name, nor choosing whether to feed them by bottle or breast. It isn’t which school to send them to, nor when to teach them about sex or savings or both. No. The most important decision any parent will make when bringing up a child is the order in which the child should watch the Star Wars movies. By the way, if your child hasn’t seen them yet, it’s all about to go off like a frog in a sock as the new movie, Star Wars: The Force Awakens, comes…

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Monday at 10am and I’m at the GP for an emergency appointment. Now, before y’all panic and worry it wasn’t, in my view, an emergency. Okay, so I hadn’t been able to stand, sit, move, bend, shit, piss or cough without screaming in agony, for three days, but it WASN’T an emergency. An emergency is when you’ve cut your head off, have nailed something onto a body part, or when your gentleman’s area has turned an odd colour. All I’d done was twist my back and all the GP had to do is prescribe some pain killers and send me…

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It’s 2.34am and I’m awake. Completely and utterly bloody awake. It’s not late at night and it’s not early in the morning. It’s the middle of the night. It’s quiet. Like the grave my gran used to say. There are no noises inside or outside the house. I’ve come downstairs for a drink and just the kettle on. It was very quiet. There are now noises inside the house. Noise inside the house. The kettle is loud, like a jet engine. Is it this loud during the day? Must be. Things don’t suddenly get louder at night. Apart from fridges.…

christmas gift

“Lucy said she doesn’t believe in Father Christmas any more” said the 9-year-old. Bugger. Thus it begins. The unravelling of an idea, festive fibbing, that’s been pedalled in order to keep the children in check. Leaving out whisky and a mince pie, and a carrot for Rudolph, floured footsteps in the kitchen and living room up to the Christmas tree to show someone came in and left the gifts, the concept of behaving yourself because otherwise Father Christmas won’t bring you any presents if you’re naughty… all this, this beautiful period of innocence and unquestioned parental authority, is now coming…

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The school holidays are over and the children are back to school. Six weeks passed without any grievous injuries, maiming, fratricide, sororicide or GBH. Everyone’s still talking to one another and the children haven’t forgotten how to count, read or spell their name. Well done. You’re getting good at this parenting mullarky. The holidays are over, the new uniforms bought and the obligatory photos of the children in their new uniforms standing by the front door have been posted on Facebook. Don’t feel too bad for doing it despite what those ‘too cool for school’ types on social media say.…

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As we all know Anna is a style guru, and with me being a small part of this elegant and stylish site I feel duty bound to try and find my inner fashionista. I’ve starting by looking for new items for my summer wardrobe. Sadly I’m less fashion guru and more fashion gnu, so I’m finding it rather hard. Mainly because I hate shopping for clothes. Which is a massive setback when shopping for clothes. Shoes, yes. I can shop for shoes. And bags, I can shop for bags. I wanted a new man bag, a smaller one than my…

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I read a piece recently which asked the question, ‘what to buy your child’s teacher for their end of year gift?’ I think the question should be rephrased: why buy your child’s teacher an end of term gift at all? Because you’ve got a bit more money than sense? Because you want to say thank you for a good job well done? Because it’s become the norm? At this time of year parents are thinking what should they buy their child’s teacher as an end of term gift. Research carried out by Debenhams found that parents spent an average of…

  Yes the rumours are true. I’m back and blogging once a month for Zeit My Geist. And what BETTER way to begin than by discussing something which affects us all. Something controversial. Something cutting edge. Something terrifying.   This morning was something of a watershed moment  for me. I was trying to find stuff. Extension lead? Found it. It was in my man bag. Random, thought the me. Phone charger? Where would you expect to find it. Of course, in the fridge. Not good. The Bag For Life I was planning to use on my Aldi trip. Oh hell.…

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Dearest Readers, I’m thrilled. I’m excited. And I’m dead chuffed to announce that Zeit my Geist has only gone and bagged a male contributor  – A man I tell thee! And not just any chap either – We are talking about an award winning writer and Dad blogger. A man whom I’ve followed on Twitter for years for his 140 characters of Dadding genius; a man who possesses such wit, humour and blunt honesty, that he even manages to make me LOL all over the place in a measly early morning email BC (before coffee). Sorry self. I know I promised…