Cometh the day, cometh the jam

Oh arrrrr. Six days gone by already! Seems like only moments ago that it was 6 days ago.

How time flies when one is getting older...take young Jennifer for instance, she became a year older in a day yesterday. That's scary. Goes to sleep when she's 38, next thing she knows she's woken up and she's 39.

Don't know about you but I'm not going to bed again.

How's that work then? A case for some young scientsists me-thinks. If only we could find some.


Top: Jenny & I 26/9/10

Bottom: Jenny & I 27/9/10 - I haven't aged a bit.

Anyway, today is "the big day". Jenny off to Engerland via Melbourne. I guess a sort of acclimatisation in a geographically lost sort of way. It's a good thing as cool to see Olly (best o35 footballer in the world) and Clare. Not only that but a wonderful opportunity to carry even more luggage. Think over-night bag and a wardrobe for the following day for starters.

Seemingly it's roasting in Melby at a balmy 12C whilst probs a mild -25C in the UK, so she'll soon get the hang of it. Olly has the heating on..and there's talk of sloe gin as the new winter fuel in some parts of Brittania.

For me, my furry friend (not at all in the rudest sense) and the kids, the first day of the next two weeks. All gone well so far. Last time of looking, everyone alive and house still there. So, no-one should worry...yet.

Itinerary for the week presented over breakfast, heads bobbing in agreement, possibly due to the onset of Parkinson's or the early morning comas. The latter affliction credited to my exuberant boys. They were up, pumped and severely reprimanded at 5:00am. They're still going strong now 15 hours later - I'm ready for my kip, I can tell ye!

Meanwhile that slothful pussy is just lying out there on the deck, soaking rays. Didn't put the washing on or nothing. Clearly I will need to repeat the teachings of "Better Husbands Better Fathers" manual items 5.5 and 5.8 which linearly relates household tasks to free residency and sustenance.

Top: Katy's cat at rest

Bottom: A busy beaver momentarily chilling

The boys and I decided to adopt strange quiffs to mark the big day. Then we all trawled into my office for some hard graft and biscuits. Several drawings and team management meetings later and we transported our lovely to the airport, enjoying a most civilised last supper before take off.

Returning to my work, I stumble across a strange set of new recruits in the lab. They seem keen enough and very knowledgeable about why fume - hoods need powerful extraction fans to remove noxious gases, such as accidental bottom emissions.

I just wish Tom's longer term memory would allow him to remember simple facts such as my boss is called Damon, not Diamond. I also wish some aspects of his short term memory weren't so sharp.

"G'day Tom."

"Huh, Diamond?"

"Did you like the Chemistry Labs?"

"Huh?"

"The labs."

"Labsh?"

"Did you like them?"

"Yesh."

Silence and then deep thought.

"Daddy says you do big filthies in the fume cupboard, Diamond"

"Arrrr. Oh. G'day. Glad you enjoyed the labs."

As my career flashed before my eyes, and dreams of being a social worker tantalised, I laughed. Only this very morning I had some sound career advice, so it's all ok.

Struggling with a jar of strawberry jam, Katy asked me to open, in her usual polite and how-could-you-possibly-say-no manner.

With a single manly teeth crunching twist, I did it in a one-er. Well the boys were looking so I couldn't possibly look soft.

"You're so strong, daddy", declared my favourite daughter.

"Aww, thanks, sweetie."

"You should be a wrestler."

"Daddy, couldn't be a wrestler", stated William.

I said nothing and waited.

"Yeah. Daddy couldn't be a wreshler", agreed Tom. "He would die."

I thought twice about helping him spread his honey but intending to keep things sweet over the next two weeks I backed down and obliged.

After a bit of thought, Katy ambitiously came up with my career path and job title....

"You are a Breakfast Manager, daddy."

Hmmm, I thought to myself.

Quite like the sound of that, in a Paddington Bear comforting sort of way.

Breakfast Manager.

On that note, tune in for the next thrilling installment...I can't guarantee when it will be...

• Will Diamond fire daddy for having insolent children?
• Will the kids be wearing the same clothes as today (I know I will be) or will the washing machine be activated?
• Will the slothful pussy do something?
• Will kids and dad make it into central Sydney and conduct themselves in an appropriate manner, befitting an institute of further education?
• More importantly, will Jenny notice daddy opened a fresh packet of spaghetti when one was already opened?

Almost Home Alone - 6 days to go

In six days time my beloved departs these beautiful, sunny shores to head to Ol' Blightey. Covering thousands of miles in an aeroplane to visit loved ones, pubs and shopping malls in a drastic bid to boost the UK economy.

This will be a test of the highest endurance, not only for her and our credit card but for me also.

Gulp.

What those Japanese boys go through on Clive James is nothing compared to what I have in store.
I am to be left to "look after the kids", all three of them. Oh, and the cat. But he doesn't count, not only because he's got no testicles but because he belongs to Katy.

My main responsibilities appear to be keeping the kids fully entertained whilst attempting to work at the same time, not burning the house down, making sure no-one dies (not sure if the cat is included in this claws, I mean clause. I certainly hope not as I don't rate his life expectancy too highly, especially if I catch him eating my sandwiches again), figure out how to use the washer and drier, do the ironing, painting, "sort the plumbers", make all the dinners, clear the vegetable patch and plant a new one.

To add to it all, I've got a hospital appointment. Guess what about? Oh, yes the big V. The big Vasectomeno. My three chums and furry friend will no doubt be accompanying me. They should just look at it as spending quality time with daddy...and the surgeon.

"So why are you having your nuts snipped, dad?", I can imagine William asking brightly.

I will ignore him, and looking to the surgeon, say in a most witty manner, and with a very deep voice, "I think that's self-explanatory."

They will also be coming with me to an open night at Law School in rush hour central Sydney as I enrol in a course for next year. This will no doubt be an inspiration for their future education. See, all good daddy initiatives.


Anyway, there's six days to go, so I'm not too worried at this stage, although other people seem to be concerned.

Take Tom's day care helper at his nursery, who can hardly speak a word of English - no doubt she thinks the same of me.

"Ah so, ah Tom ah say that the Jenny go to the England."

"Aye, she is. That'll be nice for her. Have a break, you know?"

"Eh scoozing me for the asking but who ah looking after the kids?"

"Me."

"Oh. That leally tellible. Tom will be velly wollied. I no think it good idea."

"Eh. What do you mean? I'm the daddy."

"Yes. That what we all wollied about."

"What do you mean, we?"

I look around at the other listening helpers, all of whom nod their heads in agreement.

I brushed these negative thoughts and people aside, grabbed wee Tom and rushed him home.

"Don't you worry about the silly ladies, son. Daddy will do a good job."

"Will you do football with me?"

"Yes. Of course I will. See, Mummy is rubbish at football."

"She kicks it much harder than you."

Hmmm.

Then there was the boss this morning.

"G'day Ally, is Jenny back yet?"

"Back? She's not left yet!"

He turned milky white and stretched to smooth his hair. Remembering he was baldier than Telly Savalas, he diverted his hand midway, shuffled his nose about and rearranged his trousers instead.

"Who's helping with the kids?"

"Just me."

"You?!!!"

"Err, Yes. I've looked after them on my own loads of times in the UK - only for a couple of days at a time but it's the same principle. Might bring them into the office some day - you can see them all."

With that, he shuffled slowly but steadily backwards, looking hard at my eyes, much like a hunter when a lion is about to decapitate him, grinning, saying "that'd be terrific." Then safely making it through the door, turned swiftly to his right and scampered off to safety.

As I say, I'm not worried. I'm more than capable.

Anyway, there's a whole 6 days to go and that's loads of time.

It is, isn't it?