The Boris Johnson guide to fatherhood

BORIS Johnson is getting to know his new baby, Romy, and desperately trying not to think about the disastrous by-election result. Here he gives his advice on being a great dad. 

Spend time with them

Invest time in this vital parental bond. Two or three minutes a day should do, or get one of your snivelling yes-man ministers to do it. Yesterday I got Raab to sit there going ‘ga ga, goo goo’ for two mindless hours. Actually he really enjoyed it and didn’t want to stop.

But don’t tell them about ‘the other ones’

To be honest, there might be dozens of siblings out there, but that’s no reason to make the latest batch feel less cherished. Anyway, they should just be grateful they didn’t pop out of that American bint. 

Choose a name carefully

Stupid Carrie has insisted on boring, sensible Romy Iris Charlotte. I prefer the sort of names I gave my other kids, like Lara Lettice and Cassia Peaches. Everyone will remember them and the bullying will toughen them up. But most importantly they show that I’m a hilarious, zany, don’t-give-a-shit kind of guy. 

Expect sleepless nights

A new baby means you’ll want to get away from it as much as possible. Your partner will go ballistic when you get in pissed at 1am again and moan on into the small hours, leaving you permanently tired. But when you have kids, it’s part of the deal.

Prepare for the ‘birds and the bees’ conversation

When they get older the sprog will ask where babies come from. Be honest but age-appropriate, eg. ‘When daddy loves mummy somewhat he still gets a tingle in his trouser snake and has to make a baby with another lady because condoms are like wearing a trainer on your donger.’

Learn to change a nappy 

And I mean ‘nappy’ in the singular. I did it once in 1993 so I’m not technically lying about having done it, and it makes a funny story for Have I Got News For You if you massively exaggerate.

Teach them Latin

A dodgy knowledge of Latin really helps you bluff your way through life. As the Greek writer Tetrapak said ‘Quo vadis theodolite ipsos allegro sum’, which means ‘He who laughs last has no time to die’, I think.

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Six films that would have been terrible if the hero was you

ARE you a bit of a coward, or perhaps just fond of your home comforts? Here’s how some classic films would have turned out badly if the protagonist had been you.

Star Wars

What if you couldn’t be arsed to defeat the Empire and fulfil your destiny? It looks pretty dangerous and you’re placing a lot of faith in what a strange old man says. Probably best to stay on Tatooine, put your energies into making the moisture farm a success, maybe shag Camie and satisfy your need for adventure with luxury space holidays.


Your conformist nature and urge to suck up to authority figures means you hand ET over to the government immediately. End of film, apart from you proudly telling all your little friends: ‘I captured the alien! The one they’re dissecting in a laboratory!’


Clowns don’t scare you because it’s a thing twats pretend to be afraid of to get attention. In fact you don’t have any visually interesting deep-seated fears, like spiders or zombies. Being chased around by a GCSE maths exam paper you haven’t revised for enough would be a pretty dull film.

The Great Escape 

By 1943 Germany had effectively lost the war, and the chances of escaping from Stalag Luft were pretty much nil. Real POWs accepted the reality of the situation, and you’d have been shit-scared of suffocating in a tunnel or being shot, so your personal story would have been The Great Waiting It Out. Plus the banter and homebrewing in the camp looked fun. 

The Revenant 

Leonardo DiCaprio’s character shows superhuman determination in his battle to survive. You’ve been putting off going for a jog for five weeks. Easiest to stay in your makeshift icy grave, let the numbness take over and save yourself a lot of faff. 


Actually one thing does irrationally scare you: sharks. Who invented these dead-eyed, nightmare tooth monsters? There’s no way you’d be going to sea with an obvious lunatic to look for one when you think a great white might be stalking you from below in the local leisure centre swimming pool.