We writers have a special ailment all to ourselves. Arriving without warning, with no hint to how long it’s going to hang around, and no hard and fast cure (although many old wives tales to try while we suffer) this is known as Writer’s Block. It attacks our inspiration, it stifles our muse, and leaves us with ineffectual fingers hovering uselessly over a keyboard, or nibbling absent-mindedly on the end of our pencils.
Once in a while though, something magical happens and an event occurs which causes the complete opposite of Writer’s Block. Writer’s UN-block if you will. It generally happens like this. You see something which is so obvious, that the words pretty much write themselves. A gift from the universe, an article fully formed in visual form in your minds eye, before you’ve even opened your laptop.
That happened to me this week, at a place which is well known for its inspiration to me, Soft Play.
But truthfully, once I got home, I realised that this is one of those cases where a picture really does speak a thousand words. And all I really needed was a title. So here we go. I had many runners up, but I find the beauty of my choice is that it can be read as entirely sincere, or as totally sarcastic and judgemental. I’ll leave you to decide which way I meant it. Enjoy, and you’re welcome.
Who says Dads nowadays don’t do their fair share?
Bless him! Personally, I take your title totally sincerely. He is probably exhausted because his one year old (or ‘however old’ year-old(s)) is/are disrupting his night’s sleep. Those of us with children know what it is like when you literally need some sort of mechanical device to keep your eyes open (mental image: A Clockwork Orange, perhaps?). I would be less concerned that he has drifted off at Soft Play than I would be had he taken the bairns to Brands Hatch or a quarry.