The world’s worst dad.

Some days you’re bloody useless. Tired, worn out, with a cold and no patience. You know you’re doing the wrong things but you can’t take a stand against your own shortcomings. Today is one of those days.

I would go so far as to claim I’m equipped with a rather robust patience. At least my wife tells me so. You smile, take a deep breath and let the shit flow over you. And move on. When dealing with children it’s a practical approach. Instead of going crazy over all the mad things the little buggers get up to, you brace yourself, clean up the mess and say “Oops, shall we do like this instead”.

But when my own energy runs dry, when I haven’t got enough running power to keep the good temper up – that’s it. Things I usually sort with a joyous ‘oh but of course’, become insurmountable. Small, child generated shenanigans feel like malicious devilry and the fuse gets shorter than the situation merits. You yell and raise your voice. Shout and push too hard. Go out to punish. Do you recognise yourself?

The boys are of course wondering why the borders have suddenly been pushed back. Or at least why the consequences of a violation have suddenly become worse. They are doing what they’ve always done. It’s me, who is tired and worn out. My poor little piglets. Sometimes, I’m not worthy.