Mmmm hmmmmm. It worries me big time. But what am I meant to do about it? I mean, the NHS pamphlets are about as entertaining as Donald Trump's hair. Scrap that because that actually does entertain me a lot - in a worrisome way. So, starting again, the NHS pamphlets are about as engaging as a banana peel and, unless they want to hire me as a copywriter - or someone else, of course - I just can't see how I am ever going to learn from this avenue.
Yup, in a round about way, I am blaming my decision to learn how to be a parent from this Aussie bloke on the NHS. I don't know why I am telling you this, but I guess it is just a way of covering my back should Isobel or Phoebe grow up with certain issues. It is a caveat and one i can point my finger at in years to come. Irresponsible and clever (which, now I think of it, is what I want to be put on my headstone).
So, without further ado, here is the guy who taught me how to put my girls to sleep so that I could play more PlayStation. Do I feel guilty? Yes. Am I now Level 50 on Call of Duty? Also yes.