The shit blog of Paul Chris Jones

Dear Diary. "It's summer, not winter," says 4-year-old. "And you go to a fair. But it's a fair where every ride kills you. And Santa is very bad."

4-year-old's talking to me but I'm not really listening. I'm listening to music in my head instead. You see, when I get bored or anxious, my mind plays music in my head to relieve my tension. It's a free and invisible crutch to help me cope in stressful situations. Sometimes it's Carly Rae Jepsen's Call Me Maybe. This time it's the My Little Pony theme tune, the one from the 80s.

My Little Pony, skinny and bony, Ahh, ahh, ahh, ahhh

The tune enters my head, completely out of nowhere. I don't think "skinny and bony" are the correct lyrics but it's the way my siblings and I used to sing it as kids.

How does the rest go? I'm trying to think but 4-year-old's distracting me. He's still talking about Kinder Surprise Eggs or whatever.

"Oh yeah," I say, to make it seem like I'm listening. But really I'm thinking about My Little Pony. How did we used sing that theme tune again?

My little pony, skinny and bony, it farted and it blew away

Oh yeah, that's it. Or it sounds about right at least.

"Oh yeah," I say.

Or was it:

My little pony, skinny and bony, I farted and it blew away

Which one was it? Did I fart or did the pony fart? If I farted, then does it means the pony blew away due to the immense power of my farts? Or did the pony blow away because of how skinny and bony it was, and therefore how light it was? Almost certainly the second one, I think. But that doesn't still answer the question of whether I farted or the pony farted.

Now I don't know what the correct incorrect lyrics are. I'll have to check later them on the internet, once 4-year-old has gone to bed. And also do a billion other things once 4-year-old has gone to bed.

Wasn't there that My Little Pony movie? Yeah, my family owned it on VHS. I can remember nothing about that movie apart from the scary purple ooze that comes to life and tries to grab the ponies. Scared me, that ooze did. That's right: the My Little Pony movie scared me.

***

Now we're eating dinner. Dinner time's the worst because it's so boring. I always finish my plate first but Girlfriend makes me sit there instead of letting me go play.

So I start fantasising about my 20-year-old Catalan teacher, Maria.

"My friends think you're handsome," she says, in my imagination.

"Oh yeah?" I say, flustered and suddenly very happy.

"Yeah," she says. "They keep asking me when they get to meet you."

"Well, ahma ahma," I say. ("Ahma ahma" is just a placeholder because I don't know what to say here.)

"Do you know what I think?" she says.

"What's that?," I say, leaning forward.

"Daddy?"

"Oh yeah?" I say, suddenly coming back to reality.

"Daddy, look at this." He has a chip on his fork.

***

I'm putting 4-year-old to bed. Except he's not in bed, he's standing up, and he's talking to me about his Spiderman posters.

Meanwhile, I'm pacing up and down the room. Then I realise why I'm pacing: I need to wee. When did I suddenly need to wee?

"4-year-old, I'm going to do a wee," I announce. "It's time for you to go to bed. It's very late." It's 9:06 PM now and past his bedtime.

So I leave the room and go to the toilet. But as I'm doing my wee, I hear: "Da-deeeeeee"

I finish doing a wee and go to 4-year-old's room. "What?" I say.

4-year-old's lying in bed now. "I want water."

Never mind that the water is a foot from 4-year-old's bed and he could get up and get it if it wanted to. The glass of water is right there, 4-year-old.

I sigh and go and pick up the glass of water. Then I pass it to him. Then he spills it over the duvet.

"Oh for fuck sake!" I say.

Girlfriend comes in and takes over. It's a good job as I can't do anymore of this. Small children are annoying. I don't think there are words that describe this. Parents break up from the stress of raising kids. There are adults who, at some point, loved each other so much that they decided to start a family, and then, when they had a family, broke up because of the kids. My sister is one of these adults. She and her boyfriend were happily together for five years. Then one day she gave birth. Two years later, she and her boyfriend broke up. The reason? The stress of being a parent.

When parents break up, and the kid wonders "Are they breaking up because of me?", the answer is YES they are breaking up because of you. If you'd never been born, your parents would be happier and they'd still be together. That's just the truth.

***

4-year-old's supposed to be asleep but instead he's calling out "Mommy". It's in a different way each time:

"Mo-meeeee"

"Mo-meeeee"

"Mo-meeee!"

"Mo-MEEEEE!"

"MO-meeeee!"

It's like listening to snowflakes because no two calls are the same.

Girlfriend storms past and heads to 4-year-old's bedroom. She has a look of anger and exasperation on her face. I bet there's nothing else on Earth that can cause that exact expression except the burden of an annoying child.

Ten minutes later, 4-year-old's asleep, and I instantly forget about all the stress I just went through. I'm on the sofa, reading a book, and I'm calm, happy and relaxed. That wasn't so bad, I think.

But don't fool yourself. Forgetting is your mind's way of protecting you, you see. If you had to remember all the suffering and mental torture you go through when raising a child, it'd send you mad. The doctors would find you gibbering and jibbering in a corner of the room, your eyes far off in a thousand mile stare, your arms deep with scratches of your own fingernails. Trust me; it's best to forget. In fact, forgetting is a small mercy.