The secret diary of a single parent bloke
Despite the fact that Jack is now four and a half years old, he still has a dummy. This isn’t something I’ve been happy with, but as with many other things with the kids, I’d been overruled. However, tonight all dummies seem to have vanished. You’ve heard of the “sock monster”, well we appear to have a “dummy monster” too.
The plan to rid Natalia of her dummies was carefully orchestrated- two or three Christmases ago, Kat and I concocted a story about Rudolph’s baby needing a dummy, and would she exchange it for a special Christmas present. She was far too old for a dummy, and readily agreed. All well and good, but it’s now after 9pm, Jack’s knackered, I’m knackered, and there’s no dummy to be found.
So it’s tough. Sorry Jack, I don’t know where it is and you’re too old for one anyway, so you’re not having it. He had a small tantrum, but not as bad as I’d expected- anyway, what could I do? I put him to bed, kissed him goodnight, turned off the light, and closed the door. I wonder how many times I’ll be woken up through the night?