The shit blog of Paul Chris Jones

Dear Diary. Girlfriend is still on holiday, celebrating her 40th birthday. Because Girlfriend isn't here, today I spent the whole day with 3-year-old.

Spending the day with a three-year-old sounds like torture but it was actually fun. We had one of those fun days like in films, where a rich millionaire dad takes his son around New York City for the day and they visit all the toy shops and then play on the giant piano. But instead of New York, it was Girona, and instead of a millionaire dad, it's a broke dad.

I understand the appeal of being a divorced dad now, I really do. You only have to look after your kids on weekends, and you only do fun stuff with them.

First, we went to the swimming pool and had fun playing with the floats. We got some cookies from the vending machine. Then we put our clothes back on and went outside, where there's an outside exercise area. We played on the monkey bars.

We had lunch in a restaurant. 3-year-old had chicken and chips for lunch. For dessert, he had ice cream. He wouldn't let me have any ice cream.

I took 3-year-old to the playground and we both went on the roundabout, the thing that spins you around.

Half an hour later, I was still feeling sick and dizzy from the roundabout. I think as you get older your ability to go on roundabouts diminishes. If you put an actual old person on a roundabout, they'd probably die.

3-year-old drew a circle in the dirt with a stick. Then he said, "What's that drawing, Daddy?"

And I said, "It's a circle".

And he said, "No."

I said, "It's the letter O."

He said, "No."

I said, "What is it then?"

He said, "It's a river." And then he said, "What's the river called, Daddy?"

I said, "I don't know." So I started listing all rivers that I know, the river Onyar, the river Thames, the river Styx, the Nile.

"No, no, no, no," he said.

"What does it begin with?" I said.

"Ca," he said.

"Catherine," I said.

"No," he said.

"Capillaries," I said.

"No," he said.

"Cadmium," I said.

"No," he said.

"Canaan," I said.

"No," he said.

"Camel," I said.

"No," he said.

In the end, I gave up and I said, "Well, what is it?"

He said, "It’s canal, Daddy. It's a canal. A canal is a river, isn't it?"

There were conker trees around the playground and there were conkers all over the ground. 3-year-old went around picking them up in a paper bag.

We tried to get more conkers down by throwing 3-year-old’s giant Tigger toy into the tree. It's a giant toy of Tigger from Winnie the Pooh and we threw him up into the tree to try and get some more conkers to fall down. We didn't get any conkers like this and we were lucky that Tigger didn't get stuck in the tree.

I couldn't remember if you're allowed to eat conkers or not. I mean, obviously, they're bad for you. But can you eat them? I smashed one open and tasted it and it tasted really bitter and horrible.

Then this man came up to me, He'd been watching from a park bench, and he said you can't eat them, the conkers aren't edible. But they use conkers for haemorrhoid cream or something.

3-year-old and I picked up some sticks, then took them in the river to play Pooh sticks. He doesn't really get the idea of Pooh sticks though and just throws the sticks in the river.

Then we passed an ice cream shop, and 3-year-old wanted an ice cream shaped like Darth Vader's mask. So I thought, why not. So I got that. And he wouldn't let me have any of that ice cream either. He ate the whole thing himself.

And then finally we went home and he fell asleep on the way back in the pushchair. And if this were a movie, then I would have put him to bed and kissed him goodnight and put the blanket over him and put the giant Tigger toy into his arms. But life's not a movie and so he was only asleep for 20 minutes when Girlfriend finally came home. And she said, "3-year-old can't be asleep because he won't sleep during the night". So she woke him up. 3-year-old was a bit upset at being woken up, but then was okay again.