Sheep and Shit

Piggy and I went for a walk to see the sheep again today. He’s becoming a conversational delight and he’s becoming a faeces expert. He knows the difference between horse and sheep poo but he didn’t spot the dog shit that I ended up stepping in. In my day if a cat or dog did a poo where they shouldn’t it was taught that you should wipe their nose in it. I strongly believe, although I think it’s probably illegal, that you should be able to force a dog owners nose into their pets shit if they don’t clear it up. Bloody dirty bastards!

We saw the sheep and Darwin loved it, it mesmerised him for a time. He insisted on sitting for a while whilst we observed them.

We do occasionally get ‘exorcist’ moments with him now though where he screams, kicks and hits out furiously if he doesn’t get what he wants. And most of the time he doesn’t know what he wants when he’s in that state. We’ve implemented the ‘naughty step’ and slowly he’s starting to recognise it as a punishment. I remember my dad saying before the one and only time he ever physically punished me, “This is going to hurt me far more than it is you” and then he slapped me across the arse and sent me to bed. As I lay crying in my bedroom I thought to myself “Like fuck is it going to hurt you more” but now I know exactly what he meant. To see my son cry hurts, it hurts desperately, but I wish the naughty step had been invented when I was a kid. My ‘naughty step’ was my step-mothers slipper, wielded with bitterness and anger from her fat hands, with a few ‘fucks’, ‘bastards’ and ‘fuckers’ chucked in for good measure.

Any road, I love him immeasurably and he tells his mother that I’m his best friend.

"This is England, 2015"

"Piggy Takes a Selfie"

"Piggy and the Sheep"