Sons first trip to BPW one June. Nice and sunny, uplift booked out but no problem, we spend an hour pootling up to the top with snack stops and a few pushes.
Just as we arrive at the top the mother of all storms blows in out of nowhere. Proper sleet, really windy and very very cold. The trails turn to little rivers and he was really struggling to hold the brakes. He got properly blue lips cold and was shivering uncontrollably.
To be fair, it only took an hour to get back down and while it would have been quicker and safer to walk he refused to even discuss it and instead sucked on bits of snickers to "keep my teeth warm dad".
The real 'bad dad' bit? He was 4 and on a Cnoc 16.
I feel/felt stupid for putting him in that position... Something I wouldn't have done with anyone elses kid. Still not quite sure why I decided that another trip to the FoD wasn't a better idea.
Luckily he wasn't bothered at all and loves riding. We have returned to BPW.
There's a fine line sometimes between 'adventure dad' and 'idiot dad'. It seems on my bad days i walk on that line 🙂
@i like food - sounds like something I would do. Your little lad just going for it and not taking no for an answer is awesome though.
My eldest was on my shoulders last week at the bus stop. He dropped the £2 which proceeded to roll into the road. Course, he had to get it back immediately so flung himself off my shoulders - i couldn't catch him in time but just snagged his leg enough to wheel him round and bring him down head first on the pavement. I made a noise like a coconut dropping. Doesn't help that I'm 6'2" so he fell from about 7' up.
Cue a very worried dad getting him home on the bus then a dash to hospital for a two hour check up.
and a very cross wife.
Luckily he's a scoffer like me so bounces quite well 🙂
My adventure ideas cost me a fortune in snickers!
Reading this thread makes me feel better!
Two daughters, many fails, two that spring to mind.....
First daughter, 3 years old on holiday in Menorca, stopped for lunch at a restaurant that had a water slide, a long water slide. After lunch I took her to top of slide, sat her between my legs and set off down the chute. As it was an unexpected water slide I did not have the correct slide as fast as possible shorts on, in fact quite the opposite. Daughter was asking to go faster but even pulling us down the chute with my hands on the edge our velocity was poor, disappointing for us both. So I eased the grip I had on her with my legs and gave her a good push, off she went at great speed much to her enjoyment. When she was about 5 meters ahead of me it suddenly dawned on me that she didnt have her armbands on and no matter how much effort I made to catch up with her it was a pointless exercise, she was now out of sight but at least I could hear her shouts of joy and excitement, stark consolation. I could see my wife sitting at our table about 10 meters from the bottom of the slide but as I have already said it was a long water chute and from where she was sitting she could not hear what I was shouting or have any idea why I was frantically waving my arms and pointing to the deep pool at end of the slide, al I got in return was a wave from her. To cut an already long enough story short my wife realised what had happened when our daughter didnt surface from the pool so while she was taking her strap snadals off before jumping in the pool to rescue floundering daughter the only other person in the restaurant realised what had happened and dived in to rescue her after what was probably on 5 - 7 seconds, very long seconds mind!! When I finally reached the end of the chute my sobbing daughter was on the poolside getting comforted by my wife who was giving me one of those looks , hindsight has since told me that it probably wasnt a good idea to deflect some blame by asking her why the bloody hell was she untying her sandals before jumping in....!!
Daughter no2....... she was about 15 years old (5years ago), I was downstairs one afternoon when she came down and said she thought she had a sewing needle stuck in her foot, just thought. No puncture mark in her foot, no blood, only a slight discomfort when she walked......but no sign of the said sewing needle she was using in her bedroom. Surely if there was a needle in her foot she would know about it, at 15 years old you should know these things, shouldn't you? Forward about 20 hours hours after much telling her that A&E would be very busy I decided to [s]shut her up[/s] do as she asked and take a trip to A&E........2 hours later we were holding up an x-ray showing a 5cm length of sewing needle deep in the heel of her foot. Later that night I was taking her home after a full anaesthetic operation to remove the snapped sewing needle. And as it happens my wife came home from a break away with her mum late that night, she said she thought she could trust me by now to look after our daughters...........maybe `i still cant???
When trimming my 4 week old daughters fingernails I drew blood
A confessional fantastic.
At our apartment pool, nobody else there.
I was at the bottom end of the swimming pool sorting out some floats and toys for Little Q, she was half way up the pool picking up her armbands, 2 years old, and then running full speed into the deep end, holding her arm bands above her head.
I don't think she had reached the bottom by the time I got to her, or realised what had happened, but I now know I can sprint 25m, pin-drop and retrieve a child in a few seconds. I know diving in is the way to do it, but I realised that I had to get a push off the bottom of the pool to get her to the top again.
Mrs Q once picked up the wrong wipe, which was a menthol one, and gave Mini Q a clean on her bits. Fortunately, she could talk then, and told us it was burning, or we would have had no idea why she was screaming.
Fortunate there was a bath of cold water there to dump her in.
Another pool related one from a mate.
His daughter lives with his mum, following some mischief in his younger days. His mum takes care of her, and over the last 5 years or so he has really got to know her better and become more of a dad.
Prior to this, he was very much a part-time dad, and very much disconnected, only around for birthdays, and fun things etc.
We all went swimming at a local pool with water slide, waves etc. Little Q was about 6 months old, his son was a year old and his daughter was 8.
Little Q and mini-raggie, wives and me were a bit cold so we all left, he stayed in the pool with his daughter, bonding.
He appeared mortified in the changing room about 20 minutes later.
He met an old friend in the pool and was chatting to him, when daughter asked if she could go on the slide.
After daughter had asked to go on the slide, he continued to talk to his old mate, shortly afterwards, he was asked by a lifeguard if "this is your daughter"
His immediate thoughts were "oh no who has she been fighting with this time" what the lifeguard said was "she just nearly drowned on the slide, did you not know she doesn't know how to swim?"
Turns out when I was chatting to daughter before going in the pool, and asked if she could swim, she had said yes, because she was too shy to say no. He had no idea if she could swim or not, and was pleased I had asked.
I'm a bit disappointed that nobody has tried to pretend to be the McCains yet.
I've so far managed to avoid damaging our four year old but when I was 11, my little brother was two. I had a den in the attic, accessed via a very, very long ladder - the loft hatch was about 25 feet above the landing.
He always used to follow me up the ladder and play with all the rubbish my family kept up there. One day, we were called down for tea and he refused to come down (I always carried him down the ladder).
I went half way down and warned him I would leave him there. No joy. All the way down and repeated the threat. Down to the next landing and was horrified to see he was lowering himself over the edge of the drop, his legs dangling into space.
Legged it back up the stairs but it was waaay too late. He bounced off a pile of stuff waiting to be taken into the attic, landed on the carpet and was worryingly quiet until the gasps for breath started. Then the screaming.
I told my mum he fell off the third ring of the ladder...
Banging a thin post into the ground in the garden using a half a paving brick as a hammer, my 2 year old daughter helped by steadying the pole.
Yep, brick slipped out my hand and hit her on her head, proper Thud square on.
Next occasion, outside my Donalds trying to get her balloon into the car hatch back. I slam the boot just as she lunges in to keep,the balloon inside, thwack, right on her head.
A parenting fail depends on the POV. From the 3yo #2's point of view we are terrible, terrible parents for making her wear tights with a bear's face on the seat as she didn't 'want a bear bottom'.
Cue 45min screaming.
I'm amazed any of our children actually make it to adulthood.
^^^ A lot of them haven't, yet..
I'm amazed any of our children actually make it to adulthood.
Practical Darwinism. 😉
My daughter used to be terrible for getting her hand on door frames when she was about 2. I had her in the car seat behind the passenger one day. Strapped her in and shut the door, a BMW 5 series so no lightweight, wandered round to the drivers side and as I opened the door all I could hear at the top of her lungs was WHAAAAAAAAAA! she`d reached up as I shut the door and had all 5 fingers trapped between the big door seal and the car! 😀 no damage tho 😀
Stepdaughter once did the pointing at me and using two fingers to point at her eyes, I'm watching you type thing. And with a serious face while doing it poked herself in both eyes 😀 oh how I laughed 😀
Stopping to take this photo wasnt one of my finest moments.
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I do seem to stop and take a lot of photos minutes away from impending doom. Glass chopping board too I've just noticed.
Fell out of a top bunk and landed on my head at 4.
Should've worn a helmet.
Was at a party once and someone had brought a small child. A mate of mine, let's call him Dave (for that is his name) had the aforementioned child handing out Pringles to the assembled guests. His story is that he told the lad to tell people they were cheese flavoured. I do not believe him.
So one by one, the young lad went round all the party-goers with a plate of Pringles. He waited until the offered crisps were accepted and being eaten before proudly informing the guest, "they've got jizz on them."
That's not a fail - that's what kids are for.
We often have pancakes at weekend breakfast. When the kids were smaller, I used to get them to give me the big 'Whhhhoooooaaaaaaahhhhhhh.......' build up to flipping them. Followed by a cheer if I managed it, and shouts of 'Useless tosser' if I didn't.
MrsV soon put a stop to that 🙁
Little Benjamins had just learned to ride his Cnoc 14 at the tender age of 3 and 2 months, except he hadn't quite got the hang of brakes. I was trailing after him like a dutiful dad, get to a hill I'm following but perhaps not quite as close as I should have been. All of a sudden I realise that he is going faster than he wants and that I'm now sprinting to be able to catch up with him. I'm shouting brake - he grabs rather too much brake - cue front wheel washing out and his face incontact with the floor. Blood everywhere, him distraught and wife not speaking to me. He then refused to ride his pedal bike for another 6 months.
