Mr Mum, again.

Jan 14

The last time I was primary carer for our twins, they were three. While we were all emotionally scarred by the experience, we survived.

So, when my wife said goodbye this morning, heading out to full time work again, I just rode out the wave of abject terror, remembered that I’d done it before (while trying not to remember too much), and determined to re-establish myself as Domestic God.

So, kids fed and watered, dishes done, three loads of laundry processed, all by 9:10 am. Not bad going for day 1. (“Three loads of laundry? What tragedy befell the laundry system, giving rise to three loads of laundry requiring attention before 9am on a Monday morning?”, you may ask. Well you may ask that, but far be it from me, supportive Über Husband, to raise such a question.)

Now I just have to tend to some issues pertaining to my IT business, my startup import business, and be on call for the many and varied demands of a 440 acre farm. But hey, there are two incomes now; pressure’s off, thanks to my super-clever wife.

Hang on, there were a couple of kids here earlier, where did they get to…?