The Nine Stages to Becoming a Faultless Parent

For once, I’m going to be super helpful and share with you some of my very own top tips on how to be the very best parent ever! If you already feel that the carefully constructed felt tip pen drawings on your newly painted hallway walls really offer something extra to the room, then I’m sorry, this post isn’t for you. Fuck off.

Moving on….

Stage One: Love

Pretty simple right? All you need to give them is love and plenty of attention. 24 hours a day!!!

Stage Two: Be Helpful

You should be the ultimate player at Hungry Hippos without actually getting any tiny red balls at all i.e. willing the little red balls away from your hippo into their hippo’s mouth by intense eye contact alone.

Stage Three: Do The Impossible

Be able to fit Scout into Barbie’s suitcase, reducing Scout to the size of a pea, and enlarging the suitcase to the size of your head on demand, then back again, without breaking anything.

Stage Four:  Channel Mr. Maker

Attaching objects together with no attachable properties is your name, and keeping them there is your game.

Stage Five: Conduct Electricity

You should be in possession of a way to stream Paw Patrol at ALL times with endless battery capabilities and continuous 4G connection, even in the middle of nowhere.

Stage Six: Fun

Willingly and passionately give up your body to be used as a human climbing frame.

Stage Seven: Sporty

Never take offense to being drop kicked in the side, in the head or in your bits.

Stage Eight: Have the Attention Span of a Neurosurgeon

You should have a very high level of boredom control enabling you to play Barbies/cars/trains and trolls (insert another shit toy name here) for hours and hours without making up some lame excuse for why you can’t keep playing.

Stage Nine: Have encyclopedic knowledge on EVERYTHING

You must be able to correctly select the demanded next Topsy and Tim episode, just by reading the vague one-line description from the Sky box, while knowing exactly what is going to happen and who everyone is within the two seconds you have been sat watching it.

So to sum this all up lightly, to be loved by your children* you need to be a dazzling physic with shape-defying powers, with abs of steel and a brain so brilliant that it loves the same mind numbingly boring questions shouted at it 67543 times a day on repeat. If you are only one or two of these things, then I’m sorry, you’re as shit as the rest of us.

(* for about two days until the criteria will undoubtedly change all over again. Good luck.)




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