Daddy Diary Townsville – July 2017

Daddy Diary Townsville – July 2017

The instant coffee goes in front of the sugar jar because you put coffee in before sugar. Work shirts are on the door side of the wardrobe because you wear them the most. Milk cartons are rinsed before placed into the recycling bin and under no circumstances are any towels or face washers thrown into the same washing load as general clothing.


Yes, I am a man who likes order. Everything has a place and is in its place, is where it belongs. This is how I like life. But, this is no longer how life is, now that we have the pleasure of a toddler in the house.

Let’s use the family bookcase as an example, once a vision of order and precision. The shelves have now been reduced to nothing more than a dumping ground as the lower two shelves are at a perfect height for anything our just-turned-three-year-old daughter, Matilda can get her hands on. They apparently just scream, “Mess me up”. Two weeks ago we found an old chicken nugget wedged between Jamie Oliver’s 30 Minute Meals book and a family photo album. There’s no telling how old it was and the saddest thing was it didn’t even seem to be rotting.

My daughter also creatively manages to turn her tiny toddler bed into something that resembles a bird’s nest. I’m sure that the Jetstar baggage handlers at Townsville Airport would be proud of the amount that she can manage to shove onto it. It’s not strange to find every cushion, pillow, plush toy, sheet, sock and even tissue from around the house piled on there. In fact, anything soft or huggable is often pilfered and relocated. She clearly likes to snuggle.

For all the mess making my Little Miss Three does, I do have to give her some credit. You see, she will tidy up even though, admittedly, she has to be pushed and on most occasions, pushed quite hard. I also have to remind her of the task at hand as she’s easily distracted (a trait she inherited from her father) but she will clean up after herself. If you point at her mess and firmly speak the words, “Toy Box”, she’ll generally oblige. She will slowly but surely pick up toy after toy and sheepishly put them back into her overstuffed toy box. Now all that’s left to do is to train her to reorganise the book shelf and not store unwanted chicken nuggets
in cookbooks.


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