A complete fear of sticking

There are some things I do quite well as a Dad. On the whole I’m awesome at cleaning up sick, wiping bottoms, giving cuddles, punishment and generally playing with the kids.


Don’t ask me to do cutting out or sticking though. Or painting for that matter. I’m one of these people who likes to have clean hands at all times. I don’t mind a bit of mud but as soon as anything gets sticky, it’s like having a stone in my shoe or a hair in my mouth. I just can’t cope.

The other day I got home from work and changed into my out of the office clobber. (A pair of shorts and that was it- it’s very warm at the moment.) Five minutes later I was lying on my stomach on the floor being the evil toy horse that was chasing Batman up the Imaginext Batcave. We had some issues with the horse driving the Batmobile, so it was agreed it’d go on the Batbike instead. This went on for ages and ages until we were called to the table for dinner. The evil equine was thwarted in his attempts at Gotham City domination.

I’m good at that sort of stuff.

But as the kids get older I’m increasingly finding my excuses for doing messy craft are wearing thin and I’m beginning to get odd looks from them when I suggest a game of football instead of painting when it’s pitch dark out. And raining.

I think I need to get a grip with sticky don’t I?