We had baby #3 some weeks ago. The oldest ones are almost five and six years old. So, it has been a while since we had a baby in the house. It’s great having a baby again. But it’s at the same time tough having kids, especially three kids. It’s mainly because you are on the go all day and we’re unfortunately not getting any younger..although I still look young & beautiful. My wife and I spend most evenings on the sofa – just like so many new parents, after a long day running around the place chasing the kids and working. At times, it appears as if we are part of the sofa, just sitting in each corner staring emptily at the TV, watching some bizarre reality show.  It doesn’t matter what’s on, as long as it doesn’t require any thinking.

My wife has been fantastic at looking after all the kids, while I’m off “relaxing” at work. As a results, my Latina beauty is completely wrecked after a long day. So, it is understandable that she wants some time away from the mad house. I leave the house screaming every morning, having lost another battle with the kids, seeking sanctuary in the corporate World – not that it is much safer there, but I can at least lock my office door preventing the Morgul warriors from entering my castle. Sometimes I wish I was Gandalf, so I could cast a spell on the kids during breakfast warfare, transforming them into little angels eating their food and getting ready for school … sorry, slightly distracted.

So when my wife asked me to mind the kids (ALL THE KIDS!) for a few hours. I of course agreed. The sad thing is that she actually only went to our daughter’s school, PTA meeting. So, it wasn’t some piss-up with the girls watching Chippendales or a late night clubbing. I have no doubt that she would love to go out, but she can’t venture too far off during the breasfeeding stage. It’s not sexy to be lactating while dancing! She also falls asleep anywhere and everywhere too.

She fed the baby one last time before she left and the baby was sound asleep…I thought! The other kids had already ascended to dreamland, chasing imaginary creatures and battling flying donkeys. The usual battle of getting them to bed had been easier than expected.

I kissed my wife goodbye and legged it into the living room. Yuhu! It was my time to watch my movies, and no, no adult movie .. too much dialogue. I could watch some brain dead zombie movie or a fast paced action movie. It was my first evening looking after my gorgeous daughter, while my even more wonderful wife went out for a couple of hours. What could possibly go wrong?

Anyway, she would only be gone for two hours! That’s nothing!  I can handle this.  I’m a man and a father and a World War II veteran that survived in the jungle on cow pooh and nettle leaves (so I told my daughter…). So, no problem.

She had prepared a baby snack-box; pumped her Dolly Parton attributes dry of milk, just in case the little pumpkin would wake up an demand some food. So, feet up – TV on – “Diary of the Dead” playing – Sleeping Beauty on my arms = idyllic.

Looking at my baby, she was smiling and snoring, just like her mum. Suddenly, her smile changed into the lip.  This is a trademark of all our kids. When they get sad the lower lip pouts.  The lip is normally followed by tears.

Just as the zombie was screaming and gurgling in a George A Romero classic scene, the princess in my arms twitched and opened her eyes wide open.  I initially got a fright.  Slowly, the little beauty turned evil on me for no particular reason.  Her gorgeous face changed into a Hulk-ish muscle smile and her eyes flamed up.  A roar like no other erupted from her lungs, which made the windows rattle.

Initially I assumed she wanted a bottle.  Most babies eat and sleep for the first while, but this was different.  I gave it to her, but she refused it by clutching her lips/gums or made vomit sounds.  This was a behavior I’d only witnessed once in my life, when my wife was just about to give birth to our first daughter.  Was it the a genetic modification that caused the girls in my family to turn into a Hulk-ish creatures?

I tried to relax her by walking around the house looking at pictures and dancing.  It must have been some sight from the outside; she screaming, me dancing and crying at the same time.  She was kicking me in the chest. She was clearly NOT happy.

• Perhaps she had a dirty diaper? No luck!
• Tried a nice bottle of warm milk again – No luck!
• Walked the house again – No luck!
• Placed her in the buggy – No luck!
• Picked her up and tickled her – No luck!

My nerves were shattered and I was now afraid that the other kids would wake up crying too. Maybe the neighbours would call the cops? Even the dogs were retreating. They could obviously sense a distrubance in the force.  It had only been 7 minutes since my wife had left.

After 20 minutes of non-stop battles, she was winning of course, I gave up and I called my wife. Stressed out, I asked her to come home immediately and hung up, not giving her a chance to answer.

She was home within 5 minutes, phew.  She picked up the little “angel”, gave her a cuddle and kiss and within seconds the little monster had turned to a gentle little lamb, with the biggest smile ever.  I could have sworn that she winked at me and smiled!  Just like Chucky at the end of the movie.  Another battle lost!

Within minutes, she was laughing and happily sucking my wife’s breast for refreshment.