Dad = Human bib for hire

It seems dads just gets hammered with all the icky jobs. I was forced to watch CBeebies on tv and they had a programme on with strange coloured people, wearing over-sized heads. The story was about the mum about to give birth to a new baby and how the rest of the alien kids would cope. Of course they showed some real footage of newly born babies and there was a bit of narration over the top of it like "and the baby drinks the mother's milk" and "now the mother is putting the baby to bed". Finally came "and here's dad changing a dirty nappy".

Oh yes, dad for crap, dad for puke, dad for sneezes/snotters/drool/pee and anything else that mother doesn't want to do.

Naturally I've gotta do that since I'm a single parent but today my boy's nose was running better than my car and his favourite trick would be to use his hand to "collect" the snot and then "deposit" it into dad's mouth. Why's my mouth open at that point? Well, I'm usually either talking to him in my language, talking to him in his language or acting like a spastic mime artist to try and get him to laugh. No matter which I do, my mouth opens from a fraction of a second and he pours in as much nasal fluid as he can.

Then, just after lunch, instead of spewing up his dinner, he sneezed it up (well, a little bit anyway) and shot it at my chest to give my dark blue jumper a new smattering of orange and red which complimented the wet drool marks and the dried milk. I don't know why I put a bib on him when it appears that I'm just a human version of one!