Squaddie solutions to the challenges of parenting



I've just been on holiday for a week with my family comprising one wife and three bambinos.

I've got to object to army indoctrination.

We were having a nice game of tennis. My 5 year old had got the drop on me. He's a bit of a sports natural. I was toying with him for a while and then he started getting points when he shouldn't have.

A bigger man would have laughed it off and said, "Look at the little feller go, isn't he something special". But no, not me. I started laying down 120 mph serves just to put him under a bit of pressure. My wife was saying,

"Stop it Convoy (for it is my given name) your making a dick of yourself"

But I couldn't help it. I ended up taking him to 5 sets and trouncing with him with an ace right at the death.

As I ran round the court, big-timing for Britain, all my lad was saying was, "Daddy, can I have an ice-cream and PS I Hate you."

I blame the Army for this. Prior to joining I was quite happy to let anybody beat me at any team or individual sport with my only response being a firm handshake and a willingness to do better next time. Them fcukers in the MOD have brainwashed me into contesting every utterly meaningless competition as if my life depended on it.

Do any other NAAFI posters have an equally shameful desire to win????
I too appear to suffer from this Army induced need to win.

I was on the receiving end of a particularly viscous b0llocking from Mrs Aunty Stella only 2 days ago for launching a good 80 MPH sidewinder leather case football at my 13 year old as he had the audacity to actually stop me scoring by carrying out "real" goalkeeping as opposed to half arssedly standing there and allowing me to win. I think that the fact that the aforementioned ball hit him square in the head before going over the line didn't help either.

I also find that pulling the controller lead out of the front of the Xbox whilst playing the younger bambinos at Medal Of Honour is a perfectly acceptable tactic, after all, I am simply cutting off their MSR. By the time they have got up to plug it back in in order to restart the game, I find that I can run up to their character and butt whip them round the head with a Schmeiser before they have chance to sit back down and resume control again.

Up until now I thought (as did my missus) that I was doing these things simply because I am a cnut, however, I now have a precedence to refer to and thanks to CC, can now blame it all on those nasty men in the Army :D


I suppose if all else fails you can go double or quits on a few serious yards of ale.....
"Is beating your kids at sport respectable"..........bet your fcuking life it is :lol: . My old man would take me and my brothers on at boxing and punch fcuk out of us if we got too carried away, mind i filled him in last week the 63 year old git :lol:

My 14 yr old has played rugby for getting on for three years and fancies himself as a bit of a Jonny Wilkinson / Ben Cohen / Richard Hill and is steadily increasing the power he hits tackles at........up till now I've let it go but soon he is going to get a Samoan special from his dad which will cut him in half ...........do him the power of good it will :lol:


Funnily enough, I was having a kickabout in the garden with my two lads today. Despite being a left-midfield maestro, I offered to be the goalie. I let them put a few past me, then starting making the occasional save.

The 5 year old then said, "Can I go in for a bit, dad".

"Course you can, son."

He made a couple of good saves but then made the mistake of saying.

"Hey, dad. I'm really good at this. I bet you'll never score."

I'm not proud of myself, but I have never hit a toebunger more perfectly in my life. I swung my left peg back far enough for it to tap me on the back of the head. I then swung through the ball perfectly. It caught him full in the grid from a distance of about ten feet. Both him and the ball ended up in the back of the net. In my capacity as both striker and ref, I judged the goal to be perfectly good. In her capacity as moral arbiter, my wife deemed me an "arrsewipe" and locked me out, in the garden.

My goalscoring joy was shortlived as I now have a five year old with a schnozz like Alan Minters.
Aunty Stella said:
, after all, I am simply cutting off their MSR.

I've been teaching Miss MB to swim for the last few weeks, and yesterday I took all floatation devices away and she was swimming - a proud moment in the MB household (We don't get many), so I turned to scan the water for Mrs MB (who was hiding from Norweigan trawlers) to gloat, only to turn back to see little Miss MB underwater, arms and legs flailing like a good 'un, I pulled her up and after a little comforting she shouldn't be too scarred for life, needless to say the armbands are back on ! I was shitting myself at the time but laugh at it now (am I sick). Anyway, anyone else nearly topped there offspring ?
loadsa times.....left a full can of coke by his bed...and during the night he fell out and landed on said can.....spent next two weeks with a big circle (coke can rim) cut into his forehead!
Yeah, - the time little Hucker used part of my record collection for playing frisbee.

If I could have caught him I would have fecking killed him!!
newborn master snakes 1 was in the bed with us when next door neighbour knocked on the door to tell us princess Di had died. I got up to answer the door and baby snake decides to roll over of of our 2 ft high bed straight on to his head. Mrs snakes wasn't best pleased especially when she found out why the neighbour knocked.
can fully relate to that 'want to murder my child' feeling....especially when he shat right in the middle of living room carpet....his dad found it highly amusing.

However, after his 6 month tour in Iraq my ex hadnt realised that our son had started walking....so he carried him everywhere moaning how his arms were aching......didn't tell him for a few days....very amusing - but not his reaction :?
In a similar vain........several near misses myself while growing up.

Sword fighting with my (older) brother with carving knives (as you do) decided to 'drop' my knife onto his face when I gained the up hand in the tussle....he turned his nut just in time.........would have gone straight in to his eye..... :lol:

Home made bow and arrows......fired by my (younger) brother up my nose from about 2 inches........always suprises me how much blood you you can loose and still live.

Built an assault course (sad but true) in the garden, younger brother fell off the 'walk of death'.........this being the railings in front of the house and cracked his bonce open.....funny as fcuk :lol:

..........as for my sprog

Swallowed a carvol capsule when he was about three........went very red in the face, coughing and spluttering etc........rushed to A&E and was given a dose of the up-chuck stuff.....which he did, all over me. :lol:

He also held onto our dogs collor when the stupid mut decided to bolt up the garden, it pulled him over and dragged his face along the concrete slab........it did look a lot worse than it actually was... :lol:

............memories :lol: :lol:
While I haven’t actually damaged my sons,
I do tend to errrrrrrr misplace them….
Dale will out me on how, whilst usually extremely organised I can be a little scatty….

The one that pops into my mind was the day after Monkey was born when his father and I went shopping.

After passing through the check out the man formerly known as hunny, now referred to as the d*ckhead, (never in the hearing of Monkey,) walked off pushing the trolley.
I walked after him studying the receipt and cooing over the great savings I had made.
After leaving the shop and sitting to study further d*ckhead turned to me and going a rather fetching shade of white uttered those magically words…

’Where’s the f*cking baby?’

Back into Safeway to find Monkey happy, safe and well being pushed to and fro by the rather alarmed manager!
Well, that was one for the baby book!

Teenager never escaped either!
At 7 months old while visit my parents in Glasgow I decided to go shopping.
After struggling onto the bus with baby, buggy, bags and a bad attitude I sat down and put teenager beside me asleep on seat.
At the stop I got up, and got off bus.
Walking along wondering why it had been so much easier getting off I heard shouting from behind me, turning to see the bus driver followed by an older lady holding a now very awake and very unhappy teenager I realised my answer!
Opps, yes that’s in the baby book as well….

So, anyone need a babysitter? :lol:
when my daddys little princess was a newborn i was carrying her down stairs after bathing her and i slipped in my socks on the top stairs...landed on my arse and slid down the full stair case on my back, baby was in my hands held high up in the air as i took the full pelt in my back...wife sprung up from sofa and came screaming in to see whats what...theres me in a heap, all bruised and battered...with baby still in the air who is giggling and smiling away.

wife took baby, left me on floor, no tea and medals!


Yes indeedy: when the smallest Chickenpunk was about eighteen months old I was doing a spot of gardening - which I absolutely loathe - and thus lost concentration on Daddy's little darling. I was brought up short by the sound of car horns and angry shouts from the main A49 Hereford to Leominster road, which was about fifty yards away down the lane, where junior was now sitting playing in the inside lane.


Mrs Chickenpunk didn't speak to me for about a week.
Remember one episode (only 6 months ago) when little twicer and I were walking along the beach near home and Mrs twicer was on the prom. little twicer was only 18 months old and was playing at the waters edge.

Mrs twicer says "Make sure she doesn't fall in!" "What?", I replied turning my head towards her to hear better. "Make sure she... Oh my God!!"

On turning back round I saw `No child on the beach, child in the water`

Oops!! Got myself all wet getting her out too!! :oops:
When quite small, went to visit grandparents in Bristol. To assist in keeping me and smaller sister quiet during the long car journey from Yorkshire, we were supplied with colouring books and crayons (does anyone, apart from the RMP, still have crayons?). Anyway, after being well behaved for hours my sister broke the points on my crayons and then started an argument (as usual), for which I was blamed (as usual). To try and restore order my father started pointing out various buidlings; when he pointed out (?why) the Eye Hospital, my sister foolishly asked what it was for.

To this day I do not know why I did it, but I immediately poked her in the eye with a leadless crayon, resulting in a)my sister discovering, on a daily basis, what the Eye Hospital is for and b)a thrashing for me for spoiling the family weekend.

Ah, childhood memories....
Little archer was being "Backpacked" by mum as we walked the hills in the
Peak District.
Going down a steep muddy track I offered a hand.
She refused, missed her footing and bounced 30 odd feet down the track.
Oops!My fault of course for distracting her!!!
Son, fortunately was ok.
Made she and I both sweat.
Last year we were living in South Africa so we had a small swimming pool so I could threaten to drown the maid's kids if she misbehaved. One afternoon my four yr old son fell in the pool and I fished him out straight away. I then took him inside for a hug et ceterae only to go back outside to find that his little sister had fallen in too. Had to bribe the maid no to tell the wife! The little fellow went swimming again the next day though - that impressed me no end. :D

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