Bathrooms and Noodles
Dad Bod and Dough
Living with a daughter means learning a few things very quickly.
One of those things is that the bathroom is no longer yours.
“No rest for the wicked”
You think it’s shared.
It isn’t.
You just rent a corner.
And the one time you realise this the most is when you need the bathroom.
Because somehow…
I am never needed more than when I am in there.
If I go to shave.
“DAAAD!”
If I go for a shower.
“DAAAD!”
If I go to the toilet.
“DAAAD!”
If I try and take a bath and relax for five minutes…
“DAAAAAAAAAAD!”
It’s almost impressive.
My daughter can go an entire afternoon without needing me.
But the moment I close that bathroom door…
Suddenly I am the most important person on earth.
“ Even men can multi-task”
The Bathroom Cabinet Reality
Living with a daughter means learning a few things very quickly.
I opened the cabinet the other day looking for shampoo and discovered the following situation.
My daughter has:
Shampoo
Conditioner
Leave-in conditioner
Deep repair conditioner
Volume conditioner
Moisture conditioner
Curl conditioner
Anti-frizz conditioner
Overnight repair conditioner
Meanwhile…
I have:
One bottle.
That bottle claims to wash:
Hair
Face
Body
Soul
Regret
And if I’m honest…
It probably degreases engine parts too.
“ Got to make sure all the man bits get a wash”
Dad Survival Cooking
Of course, bathroom survival is only part of the story.
Because if you're a single dad, eventually you also have to cook.
Now don’t get me wrong.
I try.
But sometimes the day wins.
Work wins.
Homework wins.
Laundry wins.
And suddenly dinner becomes one of the greatest culinary inventions known to mankind:
2 minute noodles.
Now a normal person might just cook them and serve them.
But not in this house.
In this house we elevate.
We take those noodles…
And we turn them into something that at least looks like a meal.
Maybe we add:
Some chicken, maybe some sausage unless we are in a “ I won’t eat it phase”.
Some spring onions.
Maybe a bit of garlic hidden at the bottom under the noodles!
If we’re feeling fancy we even put it in a proper bowl.
Suddenly those two minute noodles look like something from a restaurant.
And then…
My daughter appears.
She looks at the bowl.
She looks at me.
She looks back at the bowl.
And says the words that strike fear into every dad’s heart:
“Can I have ketchup?”
Now listen…..
Ketchup on noodles is not something any chef prepares for.
But as a dad you learn quickly.
Sometimes survival cooking means accepting the chaos.
So, I hand her the ketchup.
She adds what I can only describe as a medically concerning amount.
And then happily eats the entire thing.
Which means the mission was successful.
Because in the end the goal is simple:
Feed the child.
Keep the child alive.
Keep the peace.
And accept that sometimes…
The real secret ingredient is ketchup.
“When ketcchup is the hero of the meal”
And that’s life as a single dad.
You start the day thinking you own the bathroom.
You end the day discovering you rent a shelf.
You start cooking dinner thinking you’re making noodles.
You end the night serving what can only be described as a Michelin-questionable masterpiece with ketchup.
But somewhere between the conditioner collection, the shouted “DAAAD!” through the bathroom door, and the gourmet 2-minute noodles…
You realise something important!
The bathroom may not be yours.
The cupboard space may not be yours.
But the memories?
Those are.
And honestly…
They’re worth every bottle of anti-frizz conditioner in the cabinet.
Raising a daughter.
Raising a business.
Raising hell when necessary.
