I GOT A PINK ONE, I GOT A PINK ONE, A PINK ONE, A PINK ONE, I GOT A PINK ONE!

We are at my parents. We are staying over. Polly and I are unfolding the kids bed and having a good argument.

"Can you pull the bed out 1cm?" says Polly.

"No, do you think you could possibly perhaps maybe just put the fucking sheet on the fucking bed without doing a strategical reorganisation of the bedroom?" I say not unreasonably. Or charmingly.

Meanwhile Mum and Dad have arrived in the bedroom. It's quite a small bedroom - just about big enough for a double bed once it's pulled out - with a very low ceiling.

"Is it too warm?" shouts Mum.

"I don't think so, do you think it's too warm?" says Dad

"I don't know, it might be too warm, but I'm not too sure, what do you think?" says Polly

"I don't know if it's too warm. Look, can we just focus on these sheets for fuck's sake?" I say.

"David," shouts Mum

"Don't say that David," says Dad.

"I'm sorry, I'm just a bit too hot," I say.

"It is hot in here, isn't it, maybe it's too hot?" says Mum.

"I don't think it's too hot, do you think it's too hot?" asks Polly.

"WHY IS EVERYONE ASKING IF IT'S TOO HOT? I DON'T UNDERSTAND, WHY DOESN'T SOMEONE JUST TURN DOWN THE SODDING RADIATOR," I shout.

Everyone starts shouting at once.

"DAVID, STOP IT,"

"ROS, TURN IT DOWN, IT'S TOO HOT,"

"IS IT TOO HOT? IS THE RADIATOR TOO HOT? IS IT TOO HOT? DO WE NEED TO TURN IT DOWN?"

"TURN IT DOWN, JUST TURN IT DOWN,"

"THE SHEET, JUST GET THE SHEET ON,"

Just at the point that I think I am actually going to die from a haemmorrhage brought on by the sheer mental challenge of trying to work out if we should turn down the radiator, the door crashes open and Mick comes running into the room.

"I GOT A PINK ONE, I GOT A PINK ONE, A PINK ONE, A PINK ONE, I GOT A PINK ONE!"

He is holding a pink one above his head.

As one, we all turn and look at Mick, grin and chorus..

"Have you got a pink one Mick?"

Today

1) I decided that when nothing really happens like a story I will just do boring blogs like this one.

2) I drove to school and got very worried that I was going to be late as the traffic was quite slow on the A14. I was supposed to be on playground duty at 8.30 but I was still sitting on the A14 at 8.22. I got very very anxious and thought about ringing people at school to warn them but the traffic was still moving and I didn't want to break the law or die in a crash so I just sat tight, looking at the clock every 20 seconds and composing excuses and scenarios for when I was late.

Luckily though the traffic sped up and I got into school at 8.30, so the moral is if you are feeling worried about something, don't worry about it because it definitely won't happen. This is now my new philosophy in life.

3) I taught a very interesting lesson where we looked at leaflets and listed all the different features that are common in leaflets and wrote them into our books. So, if you've been worried about the future sparcity of leaflet writers, don't. It's covered.

4) I taught about fractions. Some fractions equal other fractions, and when you add one fraction to another fraction you get a different fraction. Sometimes fractions can be simplified. Fractions are more difficult to learn than they are to teach.

5) I ate a very small ham sandwich with some lettuce and some avocado. It was ok. Then I surfed the internet for games that we could play in the hall this afternoon, as our normal games lesson was off due to the infant sports day. I got about 10 really good games off of the internet and printed them all out. It took me about twenty minutes. I was pretty stoked about this and excited about our fun afternoon.

6) I went into the staffroom to drink a cup of coffee but there wasn't any so I had a cup of water. It was ok. It was cold and tasted like water. I then overheard a teacher saying "We're in the hall all afternoon" and I said "Are you in the hall all afternoon?" and they said "Yes." and I said "O.k. then I won't do PE in the hall all afternoon I guess." and they said "Sorry" and I said "No problem," and did loads of thumbs ups and smiling to indicate that it wasn't a problem, but it was a problem as it meant that I'd just wasted 20 minutes finding games on the internet and printing them all out.

This taught me that if you don't worry about something and relax and look forward to it, it will all turn to dust around your fingertips, so never get excited or anticipate anything being any good ever. I have revised my earlier philosophy to include this learning.

7) We played the games I had planned for the hall in the playground. It was OK. Only one child was bleeding by the end of the afternoon.

8) I drove home and cooked some salmon and courgettes and pasta for the children's supper. I was pretty stoked about having been so organised.

9) The kids came home and said "I don't want to eat tea, I want to watch TV." then ate about 1 mouthful of the food I cooked them and then watched TV.

See, that was a wicked day of fun wasn't it? Now I'm going to put the children to bed and cook supper.

It is more exciting than being dead.

There are fifty different types of crisps.

"Have you got anything?" Elly says.

I look at her and think "Oh shit, I haven't got anything. The next 17 minutes of my life are going to be fairly challenging. Try to distract her."

"Look here, can you see in this picture? It's you, Shellfish and Ipod when you were all in Reception!"

I've been flicking through a book of "Early Years Photographs" that are on the table outside the school hall where I wait for Elly to finish Drama club. I am dissapointed to find loads of photographs of Elly thus shattering the illusion I've bitterly created that nobody at the school realises that Elly is alive.

"Daddy, look at ME Daddy, Daddy, have you got anything?" she asks.

"Umm, look, I've got something to tell you. I've left your box of smarties at home. We'll have to pop in at home on the way to collect Mick,"

"Don't do a joke Daddy, It's not funny." says Elly.

"It's not a joke," I say.

Elly's bottom lip immediately starts to quiver.

"Stop that. We're going straight home to get your Smarties, unless you kick up a massive fuss, in which case there'll be nothing."

I am Superdad. Or a cock. You decide.

"O.K." she shoves her thumb into her mouth and starts stamping towards the car, each footstep drilling a message of hatred towards me through the concrete.

"No, you don't walk like that, you walk normally, otherwise no smarties."

"O.K." she takes my hand and we walk to the car. As I open the car up I notice 2p on the seat and say "Elly, I've got 2p. Shall we go to the shop and buy a 2p sweet or two 1p sweets and skip the Smarties?"

"YES, Oh yes Daddy, 2p. A 2p sweet. Or two 1p sweets. They've got 1p sweets and they've got 2p sweets. I don't know what to get." Elly is giggling and skipping towards the sweet shop.

This is brilliant. I really am not a cock. I really am a Superdad. Instead of a big box of Smarties Elly is going to have just 2 little milk bottles which will fool her into contentedness . I am doing my two favourite things - buying sweets and conning my daughter.

I truly am the shit.

Emphasis on the am.

Notice use of "the" and not "a"

We walk into the sweetshop and turn to where the wall of 1p and 2p sweets are.

It is full of crisps. There are fifty different types of crisps.

When did crisps become so diverse? It's as if the shop has some kind of equal opportunities policy that's been extended to the world of crisps. "Here at Mace we believe that every crisp flavour should have an equal opportunity to reach it's full market potential,"

Seems a bit ethnic cleansing to do it at the expense of the 1p and 2p sweets though.

"First they came for the 1p and 2p sweets,
And I didn't speak up because I wasn't particularly fond of 1p and 2p sweets,"

Good. I can use that bit for stand up. And then have to make a joke about how I knew all along that it wasn't particularly funny when nobody laughs. On with the story...

"Oh look Elly, they've got crisps where the 2p and 1p sweets used to be."

"OH NO, NO DADDY, NO," Elly's thumb shoots into her mouth and she starts trembling silently.

"Come on, we'll go straight home and get the smarties from there.

We walk out of the shop and she begins crying a crescendo of misery until her body is wracked with sobs. After about 10metres she stops walking and screams "I CAN'T WAIT FOR MY SMARTIES THOUGH DADDY, I JUST CAN'T WAIT...I HATE YOU, I REALLY REALLY HATE YOU."

I stand and look at her. This is really so unfair. I was trying to do something nice, I was totally up for spending the 2p on sweets, it was going to be brilliant. Who exactly are these idiots who demand fifty different types of crisps? Where are the 1p and 2p sweets? Why can't there be any consistency in this shit world? Can't a shopkeeper show some commitment to the sanity of people like me who make blind yet not unreasonable promises to their kids? Is that really too much to request?

Yes.

In my head I summarise the situation.

Elly is screaming.

Elly wants some Smarties.

I intended originally to give her some Smarties.

I have no Smarties.

I only have 2p.

Summarising in my head isn't really helping Elly to stop screaming.

I approach Elly, kneel down opposite her, reach out to her shoulders and look deeply into her eyes. Then I say to her, very gently...

"Elly, listen, I really want to get you some sweets but I haven't got any money so this is what I'm going to do," I glance from side to side up and down the street and then look back into her eyes and whisper "I'm going to go into that shop and I'm going to steal you some Smarties."

"What?"

"Don't tell anybody, ever, but I know how to do it. I can just go in there Elly and I can steal some sweets. If the shopkeeper catches me I could get into a lot of trouble with the police, but I really need to get you some sweets and I haven't got any money, so let's go and do this."

"No Daddy, no, you can't steal."

"Why not?"

"It's wrong."

"I know, but come on," I pull her towards the shop. "You really need these Smarties, I can see that because you're so sad. I've never done it before but I'm sure I could get away with it. If I get in trouble I don't care. As long as your happy. Let's go."

Elly looks at me, with an expression on her face that I've never seen before. It dawns on me that it is pity. My six year old is pitying me.

"Daddy, no, it's wrong to steal Smarties. Let's go and get some from home."

As I drive off she says to me "Daddy, I know you were joking about doing the stealing. Now put your seatbelt on."