My Diary of Triplet Fatherhood

Nappies lay scattered across the bedroom floor. I’d had to run for a new pack, leaving Tettie lying on the change mat waiting for a nappy to wear during her lunchtime nap. As I came back, I’d pulled perhaps a little too hard in my haste to get them open and sent the entire plastic-wrapped pack of fourty-eight flying in all direction.

Jem and Evie – already in their cots – burst into hysterics. Tettie though looked at me with only the trace of a smile dancing at the corner of her mouth. I could see she was thinking of the right thing to say as she raised a finger and wagged it at me. “You…” She paused, still looking for the right word. the worst word she had learned in her short life. “You blooming… “. Almost there. “You blooming bad, Daddy!”