TEN DAYS OF HERCULES JAN NARKIEWICZ ON THIS FINE EARTH!
AND WHAT HAVE WE LEARNED?
TOO MUCH TO SAY HERE!
FIVE THINGS I HAVE LEARNED ABOUT BABIES IN THE FIRST WEEK OF HAVING ONE LIVING IN MY HOUSE AND EATING MY GIRL’S BOOBS!
1: People sure do love babies. The love we have received digitally could be used to power a small Eastern European disco. Every day my Amazon guy (he’s a safe ass dude called Luke, just like my weed guy and my ole mate who I mentioned in Thanks For All The AIDS) drags another vast package up the metal stairs to our front door going, “ANOTHER VAST PACKAGE FOR HERCULES!” Humans from across the known galaxy have flocked to pay tribute to the Son Of Don, and lo, it has been a wonderful time.
2: Babies have fucking sharp fingernails, and cutting them is fraught with danger. Like, they’re so thin that when you cut them you’re not sure you’ve cut them.And if you can feel anything, it’s finger. I cut Hercules finger a bit. I didn’t mean to. It filled me with sorrow and regret, but he didn’t seem to mind, because he’s a fucking hard little bastard.
3: BABIES GROW SUPER FUCKING FAST. Like, in front of your eyes. He’s on my lap as I type this, straight growing. I can hear his bones creak. It’s mental.
4: If they’ve gone quiet and are looking shifty, they’re crapping their nappies. Well, when Hercules goes quiet and starts looking around all shifty he’s crapping his nappy. I dunno about anyone else’s babies. Maybe your kid is plotting to overthrow Jay-Z when he’s looking shifty. Not Hercules. Hercules is soiling himself yellow. Speaking of which, I almost miss that sentient black ooze he filled his pants with initially. The yellow stuff is next level ew.
5: Sleep is a myth.
Actually, it’s not been too bad. I mean, it’s not me that has to wake up every four hours and sit there getting feasted upon for another two hours. I mean, I wake up, sure. Pick him up maybe, do a bit of burping (that’s the baby burping, not me). But then I can usually stick my head under a pillow and go back to dreaming about Hercules flying around with a jetpack (that was dope) for a few hours until the inevitable RTD2 gurgley noises signal another ravenous hunger squalk… and Charlotte can sleep a bit more in the day, while I fill our home with bacon. Harmony.
Anyway, he’s a very lovely little boy if truth be told, full of joy and wonder at the world that’s dawning upon him, in the manner of a slowly emerging acid trip. He likes the fishtank, The Beachboys, Gunplay (the rapper, not the activity) and headbanging in the manner of a woodpecker… but most of all, he likes chugging down tit juice for hours on end them throwing up all over himself and falling into a deep coma.
I AM SO PROUD OF HIM.
HAVE AT YE A BEAUTIFUL SLIDE SHOW OF INTIMATE PHOTOGRAPHS! TAKEN BY ME AND CHARLOTTE AND MY MUM! YOU’RE WELCOME!
(Click here if you can’t see the gallery!)