A one-sided view of the deep and meaningful conversations I have with my husband when the baby is due a feed…
“Luke, she needs feeding in five minutes. I know you know, I’m just giving you a five minute warning so you can wrap up your FIFA game.
OK, she’s starting to cry, can’t you just quit the game? I don’t care if you’re winning, your daughter is hungry! Alright, I’ll make the bottle up if you hurry up and feed her – happy? Yeah well I’ll be happy when you bugger off too.
You’ve got the bottle half hanging out of her mouth. Yes Luke, I know she’s playing with it, but I didn’t make the whole bloody bottle for most of it to end up down her front. She’s just had a bath. She may not smell like it, but that’s hardly my fault is it? Pay attention and take it away if she doesn’t want it.
OK, OK, quick, give it back! God that girl can scream.
Have you burped her yet? No I know you are aware of how to feed your own daughter, but she’s slumped in your arms like a pile of dirty laundry. Well she doesn’t look comfortable to me. Ah! See, she wouldn’t have been sick if I’d been doing it.
I know I’m not doing it, I’m just saying.
OK, I’ll piss off for my shower then if you don’t want me. I’m just trying to help. I’m going, I’m going!
But just before I go, I really do think you need to rub her back a bit more like this. Right, jeeeeez, calm down, it was only a suggestion. I’m really going now..
I just think if you listened to me a bit more you’d find it easier. I’m only trying to give you some helpful advice.
I will not stick my advice up there, thank you.
Oh well done, good burp. I’ll go have my shower then.”