Di­ary Of A Bad Dad

The Peterborough Evening Telegraph - - Your Views - Writ­ten by Nigel Thorn­ton www.pe­ter­bor­oughto­day.co.uk @Peter­bor­oughTel

You can call me the Grinch if you like, but I’m glad Christ­mas is over. It didn’t start too well on Christ­mas Eve when Tod­dler­na­tor the Ter­ri­ble de­cided for the first time in his short life he would stay up the en­tire night. Seem­ingly un­con­cerned whether the fat fella with the white beard and red coat came down our non-ex­is­tant chim­ney or not, T the T gave me and Mrs T a sleep­less night.

I say sleep­less we got a few min­utes here and there. Mrs T was “en­joy­ing 40 winks’’ at 6am when T the T laugh­ingly de­cided it was time to get up.

Lean­ing over, he tried to prise his mum’s eyes open, cheer­ily shout­ing “wakey, wakey.’’ His sleep­less night didn’t seem to af­fect him and he was soon joy­fully bound­ing around the house as if he’d had his usual 10 hours or so. Not so me and Mrs T who were like a pair of zom­bies as the kids glee­fully ripped open their presents.

T the T is ob­sessed with trains in gen­eral and in par­tic­u­lar Thomas the Tank (an­other T the T!) En­gine and was de­lighted with his Thomas jim-jams, puz­zles and books.

“I know,’’ I sug­gested to Mrs T in a break in our yawn­ing com­peti­ton, “next Christ­mas Eve shall we just buy him a ticket on Nene Val­ley Rail­way? One way, of course.’’

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