On Saturday, Liz and I got the last of the “essentials” before baby comes along. We ended up getting things that I never thought I would purchase or have never purchased before, including a shower cap (which I actually tired out this morning!), a sieve (they just always seem to be around!) and some Colgate Plax Mouthwash (buy on get one free – ohhh yeah!)
It is with the Colgate Plax that I take particular issue with. On the back there is blurb about “fighting plaque” and “keeping cavities healthy”… the usual, the stuff that store brand 3 litre bottles for 50 pence also say. On said packaging there was a call to use it before you go to bed and wake up “feeling great”…
In my mind I pictured* waking up, rolling over and smooching my wife with amazing minty freshness - with her amazed face certain it was kissing a cool breeze- and getting along with the day feeling so great that I even forgot to brush. Turning up to church and people literally turning their heads and chasing after me to say one thing: "I've never smelt such minty goodness extruding from one's mouth before.What on earth do you use?"
When I woke up, it smelt like something had died in my mouth. Seriously. My feelings of grandeur were immediately expelled and I let my wife lay in ignorant peace for another few hours.
You lied to me, Colgate. You lied.
*I have no minds eye, and therefore cannot conceivably “picture” anything in my mind. When I read Harry Potter I imagine my old secondary school because I know the layout and don’t need to picture anything
Wednesday 23 June 2010
Monday 21 June 2010
Happy Father's Day...
A day late, I know, but I was distracted yesterday by the most amazing wife giving me a great father’s day. Despite the fact that our kid is now 9 days overdue so I haven't gotten to physically hold our child yet, Liz summoned the energy to make me feel like an amazing father already – I even got a card signed from the little one!
Everyone who knows me (especially those at my wedding reception) will know how much my dad means to be. Indeed, the only time I cried during the whole day was to address my father during my speech! I truly believe that if I turn out to be half as good a dad to my children as he has been to me, then my family will flourish. I find myself increasingly not wanting to take him for granted, as I know many out there do not have this kind of relationship.
I wanted not to just mention this great man, but another who in football terms may be described as his opposite number; my father-in-law, Bob Watkins (or Big Bob to most).
I have only had the pleasure of spending about 6 weeks of my life with him, and only spoken to him on the phone a handful of times – yet his warmth and integrity and welcoming qualities shine through abundantly. His sense of humour and candidness are remarkable (typically after most of my punch lines Liz will tell me that it was a joke her dad would tell!), I remember asking for Liz’s hand in marriage and his response was: “Sure… you have to live with her”!!
We don’t appear to have much in common – we grew up an ocean apart; he’s into baseball, I’m into football; he’s incredible at Trivial Pursuit, I struggle with multiple choice questions; his scorecard reads like a soccer score, mine like a cricket score – yet I feel completely at home when with him, it's just so clear that he's a quality man. He’s quietly spoken, but will produce a real gem when he converses. I can sit for hours with him in a room without saying anything, and feel like we've had quality time.
This isn’t meant to be a soppy blog, so I'll stop before I've taken it too far (fearing that I already have); I just happen to have two great men in my family.
Happy Fathers Day, guys.
Everyone who knows me (especially those at my wedding reception) will know how much my dad means to be. Indeed, the only time I cried during the whole day was to address my father during my speech! I truly believe that if I turn out to be half as good a dad to my children as he has been to me, then my family will flourish. I find myself increasingly not wanting to take him for granted, as I know many out there do not have this kind of relationship.
I wanted not to just mention this great man, but another who in football terms may be described as his opposite number; my father-in-law, Bob Watkins (or Big Bob to most).
I have only had the pleasure of spending about 6 weeks of my life with him, and only spoken to him on the phone a handful of times – yet his warmth and integrity and welcoming qualities shine through abundantly. His sense of humour and candidness are remarkable (typically after most of my punch lines Liz will tell me that it was a joke her dad would tell!), I remember asking for Liz’s hand in marriage and his response was: “Sure… you have to live with her”!!
We don’t appear to have much in common – we grew up an ocean apart; he’s into baseball, I’m into football; he’s incredible at Trivial Pursuit, I struggle with multiple choice questions; his scorecard reads like a soccer score, mine like a cricket score – yet I feel completely at home when with him, it's just so clear that he's a quality man. He’s quietly spoken, but will produce a real gem when he converses. I can sit for hours with him in a room without saying anything, and feel like we've had quality time.
This isn’t meant to be a soppy blog, so I'll stop before I've taken it too far (fearing that I already have); I just happen to have two great men in my family.
Happy Fathers Day, guys.
Friday 18 June 2010
Open Letters...
Dear Son…
We’re ready for you to come out now! Your room is decorated, you have a nice cozy place to sleep and a whole room to yourself if you so desire. The finishing touches have been put into place, so now we need a baby to come and occupy our lives, we have been waiting almost 10 months you know!
If I can meet you soon I would be most grateful.
Yours forever,
Dad
Dear World Cup,
I knew I was right to keep faith in you. I told you that the second round of games are now must win and will get more exciting. You’re welcome. Thank you for offering football for a whole month, right now, you’re one of my favourites.
Thank you also for scheduling my three countries to play today. The German quarter of me will be cheering at 12.30pm, the American side (which I know, I technically haven’t got one… but have fairly significant ties) will be vuvuzelaing at 3.00pm and the English ¾’s going crazy come 7.30. What a day.
Yours for a month more,
Phil
Dear world,
We will tell you when the baby comes… no need to keep asking! The standard response to “any signs yet” will continue to be “have you heard anything??”
Thanks,
Mean Old Man
Dear Freebie Friday,
Thank you for putting your leftover sandwiches out in the canteen at 2 o’clock… double lunch is unnecessary, but I’ll take it. Every week.
Never hungry on Fridays,
Phil
We’re ready for you to come out now! Your room is decorated, you have a nice cozy place to sleep and a whole room to yourself if you so desire. The finishing touches have been put into place, so now we need a baby to come and occupy our lives, we have been waiting almost 10 months you know!
If I can meet you soon I would be most grateful.
Yours forever,
Dad
Dear World Cup,
I knew I was right to keep faith in you. I told you that the second round of games are now must win and will get more exciting. You’re welcome. Thank you for offering football for a whole month, right now, you’re one of my favourites.
Thank you also for scheduling my three countries to play today. The German quarter of me will be cheering at 12.30pm, the American side (which I know, I technically haven’t got one… but have fairly significant ties) will be vuvuzelaing at 3.00pm and the English ¾’s going crazy come 7.30. What a day.
Yours for a month more,
Phil
Dear world,
We will tell you when the baby comes… no need to keep asking! The standard response to “any signs yet” will continue to be “have you heard anything??”
Thanks,
Mean Old Man
Dear Freebie Friday,
Thank you for putting your leftover sandwiches out in the canteen at 2 o’clock… double lunch is unnecessary, but I’ll take it. Every week.
Never hungry on Fridays,
Phil
Thursday 3 June 2010
Britain's Got Confidence Issues...?
Please take note. This is NOT a rant against people, this is a rant at media manipulation and the predictability of talent style shows. NB: My work computer is pony, so it wouldn't let me upload the actual videos- please click on links for Christopher Stone and Paul Burling to see this years talent!
Liz and I love to watch Britain’s Got Talent, X Factor and occasionally American Idol (last years Allen v Lambert final was quite the spectacle). But more so with Britain’s Got Talent (BGT) than any other, I’m starting to get a little frustrated. Every year there seems to be an older lady or fellow, who still live with their parents, and has a severe lack of confidence. Someone no one believes in, who is fighting against the odds and is stepping out of their comfort zone to make themselves vulnerable before millions of viewers. Someone who a Jock would call a loser, who just happens to be an amazing singer.
Season one was Paul Pott (who went on to win the thing), season two had another similar act (albeit this time a young boy), season three we had the sensational Sue-Bo, and this year we have another one, another Paul or Sue-Bo. His name? Christopher Stone.
I kind of get fed up with the predictability of this. People probably vote for him because he has an amazing voice… I’m not looking to knock that or his confidence in the slightest… I’m just craving a touch of variety, such as Paul Burling who last night made it into the final.Christopher, despite his obvious talent, will not win… the winner will be Spelbound, an amazing group of dancing gymnasts who leave me open mouthed every time I see them.
This may seem like a peculiar rant from a man who cannot get enough of cheesy American Dream flicks, such as Remember the Titans, Coach Carter and Invincible. (With Glory Road on my “to watch” list- possibly due to the presence of Emily Deschanel of Bones.) It’s really getting frustrating. Some class acts did not get through last night because the usual sob story prevailed.
This seems harsh… I actually applaud these people for their guts and am regularly impressed by their quality voices; I just wish they’d rename the show Britain Can Sing and Dance, because no other act has got a chance.
Liz and I love to watch Britain’s Got Talent, X Factor and occasionally American Idol (last years Allen v Lambert final was quite the spectacle). But more so with Britain’s Got Talent (BGT) than any other, I’m starting to get a little frustrated. Every year there seems to be an older lady or fellow, who still live with their parents, and has a severe lack of confidence. Someone no one believes in, who is fighting against the odds and is stepping out of their comfort zone to make themselves vulnerable before millions of viewers. Someone who a Jock would call a loser, who just happens to be an amazing singer.
Season one was Paul Pott (who went on to win the thing), season two had another similar act (albeit this time a young boy), season three we had the sensational Sue-Bo, and this year we have another one, another Paul or Sue-Bo. His name? Christopher Stone.
I kind of get fed up with the predictability of this. People probably vote for him because he has an amazing voice… I’m not looking to knock that or his confidence in the slightest… I’m just craving a touch of variety, such as Paul Burling who last night made it into the final.Christopher, despite his obvious talent, will not win… the winner will be Spelbound, an amazing group of dancing gymnasts who leave me open mouthed every time I see them.
This may seem like a peculiar rant from a man who cannot get enough of cheesy American Dream flicks, such as Remember the Titans, Coach Carter and Invincible. (With Glory Road on my “to watch” list- possibly due to the presence of Emily Deschanel of Bones.) It’s really getting frustrating. Some class acts did not get through last night because the usual sob story prevailed.
This seems harsh… I actually applaud these people for their guts and am regularly impressed by their quality voices; I just wish they’d rename the show Britain Can Sing and Dance, because no other act has got a chance.
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