Towards the end of the summer holidays, Helen, Izzy and I briefly visited Wales. We stayed at Porthcawl and I was mesmerised by the landscape. If I hadn’t been flying solo with the kids, I could happily have spent a day or two shooting pictures.
“Daddy, can I please have a sleepover at Catherine’s house?” said Izzy. Under normal circumstances the word sleepover is enough to make me want to jump on an airplane and disappear into the Australian outback, never to return. This request, however, came as an even bigger surprise.
I sometimes look at my life and have to remind myself my experience of fatherhood is very different to many other menfolk. Put bluntly, my existence has gone off in a completely different direction compared to my male peers who work full-time.
“Daddy, I don’t want to go for a walk,” said Izzy. We’d spent most of the day inside either doing domestic chores or at Helen’s gymnastics class. being a beautiful autumn day, I wanted the kids and I to get out and enjoy some fresh air, hence why I insisted we go for a walk.