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I got to lie in til 7.30am this morning. What an unearthly delight.
Probably a good thing that Bill Burr cancelled. RHLSTP is always exhausting.
Phoebe was playing with a hairdressing app when I came down. You can take someone’s photo and then try out different haircuts. It’s pretty cool and in these days where you can only get backstreet haircuts or my wife hacking at you with some nail scissors, it’s actually borderline fantasy territory. Imagine a world where you can get your hair cut.
Phoebe decided to try it out on the cat and as a result created either a new god or a work of art. You decide.
She then did a haircut for my eye. My eye looks better than I do. What a world.
Meanwhile I am spending most of my non-writing time celebrating the excretions of my son. He’s doing pretty well with potty training, as long as we leave him with no nappy on and every tinkle and plop is celebrated like he’s scored at Wembley. He gets a chocolate every time he uses the potty and so does my daughter and to hear her half-heartedly joining in with the congratulations is one of my favourite things at the moment. She’s really ramping up the sarcasm. As a parent I should be chastising her, but as a comedian I couldn’t be happier.
I am not saying that the romance has gone out of my marriage but yesterday when Ernie managed a massive poo in the potty on my watch I actually texted a photo of the brimming potty to my wife. But the prospect of not having to change nappies ever again (at least until I start wearing them) is a cause for celebration.
And yet I have got so use to wiping arseholes that are not my own I think I might actually miss it. I always thought it would be the worst thing about having kids, but it’s funny and bonding and sort of fun. Even when it’s runny and it’s gone everywhere.
Once they’re both entirely self-sufficient on the toilet I'm just one step closer to my redundancy
On Saturday at 7pm I am hosting a comedy gala in support of Heckle the Virus.
Amazing line-up
