Slow down Mummy / Speed up Daddy

One of the sparks for this blog was a poem that has been widely shared on Facebook recently.

Slow down mummy, there is no need to rush,

slow down mummy, what is all the fuss?
Slow down mummy, make yourself a cup of tea.
Slow down mummy, come and spend some time with me.

Slow down mummy, let's put our boots on and go out for a walk,
let's kick at piles of leaves, and smile and laugh and talk.
Slow down mummy, you look ever so tired,
come sit and snuggle under the duvet and rest with me a while.

Slow down mummy, those dirty dishes can wait,
slow down mummy, lets have some fun, lets bake a cake!
Slow down mummy I know you work a lot,
but sometimes mummy, its nice when you just stop.

Sit with us a minute,
& listen to our day,
spend a cherished moment,
because our childhood is not here to stay! 

Rebekah Knight

Now I have no problem with this poem: it's an admirable sentiment, if perhaps (according to the Mums I have spoken to) a bit of an unachievable ideal.

But why do you never see 'Dad' versions of these poems? When I search for 'slow down Daddy', I just get a lot of tragic stories about drink driving.

As I am sure I'll find myself emphasising time and time again on this blog, I love my boys with all my heart and couldn't be happier with fatherhood and all that it brings. But I still can't help wondering what would a Dad version look like, if we take off the rose-tinted spectacles and view life through the cultural prism of crap Dadding? 

Maybe a little like this. I'm a little worried it doesn't scan.

Speed up daddy, there are dishes to do, 

speed up daddy, I need a big poo.

Speed up daddy, go out and earn more money,

speed up daddy, I'll be fine with mummy.

Speed up daddy, let's capitalise on your obsessional tendencies by tapping you for another collectible trading card game,

speed up daddy, let's wrestle and use you as a punchbag and then when you accidentally drop me on my head ensure you get the blame.

Speed up daddy, me and Mum are snuggled up underneath the duvet,

how about a full English, and a cup of tea wouldn't go amiss, eh?

Speed up daddy, put Capital FM on, even though you have an iTunes library of approximately 15,000 killer tunes culled from a period spreading across 7 decades and really could do an awful lot better than Rhianna's 'Shine bright like a diamond' or Olly Muir's 'Troublemaker' on constant repeat,

Speed up daddy, in this day and age it's not acceptable (quite rightly) to just bring home the bacon and then put your feet up in your favourite seat.

Speed up Daddy, you need to ferry me to a large variety of extra-curricular activities: cubs, gym, football and swimming,

and if you think you can have a lie in when you've got a hangover you've got another thing coming.

We do love you, Daddy, 

Just not as much as Mummy.

It's an inevitable consequence of spending more time with her in the early days,

I wouldn't worry about it.

UPDATE: Rebekah Knight very kindly wrote this special 'Daddy version' for us. I think we can all agree hers is better!