Growing Pains of a Hapless Househusband

Growing Pains of a Hapless Househusband
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Sam's days are filled with tantrums, food fights and undisclosed amounts of telly watching, and he can't help but feel the aching tedium and financial pinch.

Even the flattering advances of Jodhpur Mum aren't enough to lift his spirits. But things are about to change dramatically. While Sam's status as a stay-at-home dad goes national via his own hit TV show, WonderHubby , life on the home front quickly spirals out of control Paperback , pages. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about Growing Pains of a Hapless Househusband , please sign up. Be the first to ask a question about Growing Pains of a Hapless Househusband.

Lists with This Book. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Feb 09, Kathryn rated it liked it Shelves: This book was ok, but nowhere near as funny as the first book in the series, Diary of a Hapless Househusband.

Growing pains of a hapless househusband

Sam finds himself making a TV show about his parenting techniques. It's all very far fetched and I felt the book was lacking what made me love the first book. I found the first book funny because of the antics of Sam's children, but in this book they barely made an appearance. Frezanda rated it liked it Feb 08, Elin Harris rated it liked it Apr 19, Michelle rated it liked it Nov 12, Angela rated it liked it Jul 05, Tina Messent rated it really liked it Aug 15, Sylvia rated it liked it Aug 09, Her boyfriendRick is some sort of 'landscape designer', who is indeedextremely poor, so I think he may have to become mynew best friend.

Whatever is happening in Ktyteklhdfistan is gettingworse. Not that I can possibly know what is actually happeningthere, because places like Ktyteklhdfistan neverappear on the news. I doubt that they ever did. However,what I do know is that Sally is working increasinglylate, and when she gets home, she bashes away furiouslyon her laptop. She seems muted and distant. I've neverknown her like this.

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She also looks somewhat tired, andI even thought I spotted a grey hair in amongst hernormally shampoo-advert-like long brown tresses. When I ask her what the matter is, all she can say isthat things in Ktyteklhdfistan are pretty bad and there'sa lot to sort out. She can't be more specific, which isinfuriating. She shook her head as she drained her third glass ofwine. Another worrying development — she's beginningto drink as much as me.

That's about the politest way I can put it. I'm ruing my latest 'it'll be fine'. There is noconsultancy work out there, not even for me, the greatwhistleblower who saved Sir Roger's august firm ofMusker Walsh and Sloss Consultants Ltd.

I am feelingincreasingly bitter about this, perhaps more so thanwhen I lost my job. I'm also feeling a bit guilty that I've taken this out onPeter and Daisy. After picking up Peter from school andDaisy from playgroup, the rest of the day was a bit of awashout. Literally, because it was raining, andmetaphorically because everything I attempted to dowith them felt half-hearted. They picked up on mymood immediately, and as a result, they were bolshy. Normally they love painting, buttoday they showed a marked reluctance.

Peter's reluctance was copied by Daisy, who shookher head and went 'no' each time I tried to put apaintbrush in her hand. Normally she is good for asquiggle or two, but today she just flung the paintbrushto the floor.

I then told her this was naughty, and sheburst into tears. Cue large shouting match which saw me leave themalone in the kitchen while I read the paper in theliving room. Or rather, I pretended to read the paperas all I could concentrate on was the ceaselessbellyaching. All because I had started them off badly.

It was my fault, I knew it, but I find it impossible tohide my mood from them. Perhaps I should be moreprofessional, and not take my problems to 'work', butthey should realise that Daddy is human as well, evenif not a particularly brilliant one.

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Later, partly out ofguilt, but more because I actually wanted to, I gavethem both some huge cuddles on the sofa, and orderwas restored. My whole life is stretching in front of me, and fromhere it looks like something Daisy would have paintedhad she been willing — a bloody mess, a meaninglessbunch of squiggles and splodges that add up to verylittle, but something which other people must bepolite about. I'll be able to see it in my friends' eyes,the same look that I give Daisy and Peter when Iadmire their artwork.

And there'll be the same wordsas well — the over enthusiastic 'well dones' and 'goodfor yous'. But the big difference between the childrenand me is that they're proud of what they do. I justpretend to be.

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Slammed doors, carengine started, ran out and begged her to stay,she said she was only driving off to clear herhead. I'm also feeling a bit guilty that I've taken this out onPeter and Daisy. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Normally, she would have had a bit ofa fit — I'm pretty sure these are currently or were hermost favoured footwear — but instead she just turnedround with a resigned expression and slipped the shoesoff, examined them, and then put them in the bin. Withoutabox Submit to Film Festivals. To ask other readers questions about Growing Pains of a Hapless Househusband , please sign up.

This is all getting self-pitying and revolting. Dinner at Victoria's tomorrow night — there had betternot be any rich people there. Dinner at Victoria's was so much better than I expected. So so much better. In fact, potentially life-changing. Imust do my best not to get too excited. But I can't helpit, and I doubt anybody would be able to keep calm inmy circumstances.

I've gone from the equivalent ofnulpointsto the cusp of Eurovision greatness in just a fewdays, and if this thing pays off, boy will it pay off. Anyway, to begin at the beginning. The assembledlooked pretty much as I had feared — absurd facial hair,clothes too young for the bodies therein — but there wasone of them towards whom I immediately gravitated. Despite having those standard 'I'm alternative, me'rectangular glasses, and an inexcusable ponytail Ireally thought ponytails had been collectively shorn inabout , he looked a little more bright-eyed andless stoned than the rest of Victoria's friends.

It turned out he was called Dom Simons, and he wasa TV producer. I should have guessed. Normally, Ihave little time for people in the media.

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Growing Pains of a Hapless Househusband has 16 ratings and 1 review. Kathryn said: This book was ok, but nowhere near as funny as the first book in the s. Growing Pains of a Hapless Househusband [Sam Holden] on linawycatuzy.gq * FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. In theory, life for Sam as a stay-at-home dad is.

Most of themare full of crap, and think they know exactly how theworld works with their glib categorisations and zeitgeistyspiel, and sure enough, Dom seemed no exception. Also, like most media people, he believed that his voicewas the only one worth listening to, and he spent thefirst ten minutes telling me all about himself. Still, hewas entertaining enough, and beneath the self-pufferythere seemed to beat the heart of a genuinelyintelligent and interesting bloke. Eventually, he asked me what I did. I'm alwaystempted to lie at this point, because saying 'I'm a househusband'sounds so wet.

In fact, I've practised saying itso many times, I feel like an actor who's been asked toplay James Bond, and is hung up on how to say, 'Thename's Bond, James Bond. On thisoccasion, I just kind of blurted out:. And then my wifedecided that she would go back to work, because herjob was more interesting, and she thought in these daysof sexual equality there was no reason why sheshouldn't be the breadwinner.

This is getting increasingly common. When I tellmost blokes that I'm a househusband, they find it sobeyond their ken that they then ask what I used to do. I suppose what I miss most of all is making some sort ofprofessional impact. You know, with managementconsultancy, you're actually going to a firm, and withina few weeks you've made them more profitable, andyou've really made a huge difference. A common misconception,' I replied playfully,although in truth I was a little narked. It's so unfair thateverybody thinks that management consultants just sackpeople in order to make companies look profitable.

When we went to some big insurance firm down inPoole, I remember recommending that they shouldactually employ more people. I told all this to Dom, whoseemed to take it on board. Well, he sorted of noddeda bit, before asking me whether I still kept my hand in. I could tell that I wasbeginning to bore him. This is something else thatseems to be happening more often. Either I really havegot more boring, or I have always been boring, and amnow far more sensitive. My next conversational gambitwas therefore born out of desperation. This time Dom's eyes popped open so widely thatthey actually went beyond his frames, making it look asthough he had two Tube logos stuck on his face.

You know, a real-life documentary of ahousehusband.

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The trials and tribulations of anordinary bloke stuck in a woman's job. It was hardly surprising — the idea wasnot exactly well thought out, and had only been voicedin order to make conversation. Why did it always have to be a celebrity? What right do celebrities have to lecture us? The othernight I caught the end of some female comedianpresenting a programme on the British Empire. Whatdid she know about it? About asmuch as my old history tutor knows about situationcomedy. In fact, probably less than that. That will have to do. And God knows what Jane is going to say. Perhaps I should roast her instead.

Unpleasant image of mother-in-law stuffed with chestnut stuffing. Still, there's enough meat on her to keep us going for weeks. I don't know whether that's merely the worst Christmas Day I've ever had, or the worst Christmas Day anybody in the world has ever had, including Dean Martin, who actually died on Christmas Day.

What will have to suffice for the moment is a list of what went wrong: The lack of turkey, as mentioned. Sally wanted to kill me, but I mollified her by saying that was a picnic compared to what I wanted to do to myself. Daisy bit Peter so hard at breakfast that she actually drew blood. The poor little chap now has deep sororal indentations on his right forearm. Naturally, it took Peter some two hours to recover. Daisy was shut in her bedroom, which made her apoplectic.

Sally disapproves of such punishment, but I said that as I was cooking, I was in charge. Not a bad idea, I replied. Ensuing row with Sally. Slammed doors, car engine started, ran out and begged her to stay, she said she was only driving off to clear her head. She's been doing a lot of this recently. Phone call from contrite Sally 10 minutes later informing me she'd had a puncture on the main road and could I pick her up?

Bundle children into other car and collect her. Spend 30 seconds attempting to loosen the wheel nuts before admitting failure. Get back home, and call the breakdown people.

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Decide that I will call back later. Car is far enough off the road. Arrival of Jane and Derek. Instant bollocking for not removing Jane's coat quickly enough. Want to tell her that I would more readily remove her head. I tried to bullshit my way out of it by saying that I didn't really approve of the way that turkeys are reared, to which Jane responded that this was another example of the 'pathetic sensitivity' that my generation showed to animals.

Did I eat everything raw, even chicken? She would contract 'salamanella', how could I feed this to her? I chucked the whole chicken into the microwave much to her disgust — 'We'll get nucleated' which resulted in it being utterly dried out and tasteless. Daisy and Peter behaved atrociously during lunch, which naturally earned much opprobrium from Jane.

At least Derek just sat and got quietly pissed. I expect he does that most meals. I decided to copy him, which wasn't a great idea. We helped you enough after the flood.