Wednesday marked a huge and momentous occasion in the life our son, Rohan: he turned 8 weeks old.
Why is this important? Because he has learnt how to speak/walk/eat on his own? No. Because he can now fend for himself? No. Because he has started sleeping through? No (although he’s getting pretty good at the whole sleeping thing..). Because he has left home and gone to university? No.
Important though each of these milestones is, 2 months is more important.
It’s the point at which you can start giving your children Calpol.
Who only knows what this magical potion has in it? It is probably a secret more closely guarded than the Coca Cola secret formula. If I was in charge of Calpol Inc., I’d be guarding it closely, too. Anything that can turn a screaming maniac banshee child into a calm, restful, sleeping one is worth [insert large sum here] to a parent.
So far (so far: remember, I’ve done this before, and I know damn well that TEETH – the bastards – are just round the corner..), Rohan has been an absolute star. But to have the safety net of Calpol is a huge relief.
There are people out there (normally those without children, note) who swear they’ll never 1) put their kids in front of the TV or 2) use pain-relieving drugs. To them I say , simply, ARSE.