The 15 most agonisingly boring moments of parenthood

THERE are so many moments to cherish with kids, and also so many times when you are so very, very bored. Like these: 

Pushing your child on a swing, in which momentum and kinetic force combine to turn seconds into hours

Waiting in their room for them to fall asleep when you’re not allowed to scroll your phone because it keeps them awake

Listening to them talk about Roblox, Minecraft or Fortnite, wondering what part of your stupefied face says ‘Tell me more, my angel’

Walking down the street with a toddler examining every fascinating new paving stone

Doing f**king phonics with the Oxford Reading Tree

Reading their favourite bedtime story that you’ve read so many times you quote it to strangers

The wipe wait, because there’s nothing like hanging around with loo roll in hand ready for a child to finish shitting to remind you of what you’ve become

Washing laundry, the job that never, ever ends

Harvest Festival; the hymns, the poems about autumn leaves, the Bible story by Year 6, then watching every single child in the school walk slowly down a long church aisle to place a tin of beans on a table

Sports Day, where after a while you’ll be so bored you don’t even notice your own child triumph at the egg-and-spoon

Breakfast, lunch, dinner, all the snacks: making food has become so very, very dull

Watching them put their shoes on badly, like dicks, resisting shouting ‘Hurry the f**k up’

Playing an interminable boardgame they’ve drawn and devised that doesn’t have any rules except they win

Preparing pass-the-parcel for their birthday parties, ie wrapping the same parcel 12 bloody times

Waiting for the shitty animated movie they’ve chosen for Movie Night to finish so you can start drinking. F**k it, Elsa won’t know. Start now.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday

Are you being gentrified? Take our quiz

WORRIED that you might be a victim of the gentrification usually reserved for areas of cities? Find out if you’ll soon be priced out of your own life: 

How would you describe yourself?

A) Up-and-coming, a bit rough around the edges, but with eclectic and quirky interests
B) Cheap, grimy, basically shit

Where do you see yourself in five years?

A) I’d like to pursue my passions of grafitti art, livetweeting coffees, hipster veganism and vaping
B) I’d like to think I’ll still be around, if I can cut down a bit on my drinking

What’s your favourite film?

A) Anything written by Ken Loach, anything Iranian, or The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across The 8th Dimension
B) Fast & Furious 6, after that the franchise goes bollocks

What’s your favourite food?

A) Any unique delicacy perfected by a close-knit immigrant culture, just begging to be sold on a slate at twice the price
B) Day-old chips

What are your friends like?

A) Mykkle runs an art gallery from his electric scooter dealershop, and Xtina is an artisanal latte foam artist
B) Gaz and Macca are the same twats I’ve know since school

How much would you charge to rent you for a month?

A) £550 at the moment, but that might be going up. I’m getting a lot of offers like this
B) Six pints


Mostly As: I’m afraid that you’re both perpetrator and victim of gentrification. Soon your features will be distorted into the permanently self-satisfied grin of a Guardian reader, and you’ll have to ride a single-gear Dutch bike. And you’ll like it.

Mostly Bs: You’re not being gentrified, but don’t get complacent. The moment you show a single redeeming quality the developers will be on you like rats on a deconstructed shish kebab. Knock a couple of front teeth out so they’ll keep a safe distance.