If it wasn't for those pesky kids

Kids change everything. You spend your whole life maturing, developing, gaining insight and understanding to such a zen-like level, that you can almost, almost, pick up an Argos catalogue without wanting anything. And then the little ego monsters arrive. Consume, consume, they use you and consume. Cake, toys, wallpaper, shoes, filing cabinets, novelty teapots, glasses, whatever they lay their little eyes on they want. Nothing sums up a child more than the enjoyment they get from watching fireworks; millions of pounds going up in smoke as tiny little chuckle brothers watch the world burn. As a child I was like this, but so much worse. If we needed a new lawnmower or fridge I'd become obsessed. I'd become the world's greatest knowledge, and nothing but the best was permissible. Who cares if our garden was the size of a flowerbox? We had to get a lawnmower with striping technology or I was going on hunger strike. What a pain in the ass I must have been. I've come a long way since those days. I can almost shop in Morrison's. Let's hope my kids are fast learners.