Richard Hearn imparts some parenting wisdom

I phoned my oldest friend earlier today. He’s becoming a dad for the first time in about five weeks. He moved house two months ago, and he’s currently methodically taking his DVDs out of their boxes and putting them in plastic sleeves.

Illustration: Paul Lewis www.pointlessrhino.com

He doesn’t know, does he? Just get into bed, I want to tell him. Get into bed, get yourself four and a half weeks of solid sleep. Because once the baby comes, there won’t be another chance.

“I’m wise now. I wasn’t just before The Boy was born”

I’m wise now. I wasn’t just before The Boy was born. We too had just moved house and I prioritised creating a herb garden outside our back window, digging over a whole new area, planting mint, thyme, oregano and rosemary. I don’t think I ventured outside for another eighteen months.

I should have just done all those things I’d be unable to do once the baby was born. Sat down with a massive cup of tea knowing I wouldn’t be interrupted. I could have gone to the cinema, watched anything I wanted. Ventured out, carrying only a fluttering £20 note in my hand. (No wipes, no emergency raisins, no changing bag). Read a ruddy book while drifting in and out of sleep.

These are the important jobs to do in the next five weeks, while you still have the chance. (Yes, I know your eight-month pregnant wife might have something to say about some of these suggestions, but this isn’t a rational, selfless list; this is from the heart.)

Apart from the herb garden, I also mistakenly prioritised getting a small low wall built at the front of our garden, and adding a sink in the downstairs loo. Both kind-of useful but I’d have been better off having a leisurely meal with my partner without having to field questions about Harry Potter, or reading something that won The Booker rather than something involving flaps hiding animals.

When I told my wife this was my theme, she started chipping in with loads of ideas. When it comes to ‘Things to do if you weren’t a parent’ she’s played her joker. Her suggestions? Go to a park, shout out to all the bored looking parents “I’m going to the pub” and then run away. Go to a farm and not have to mimic every animal or point out every tractor. Or just not go to a farm. Enjoy your whole day without having to wipe someone else’s bum. Have one of your rooms monochrome (because you can.)

I could go on, but the editor says I have to keep it to 450 words. Anyway, I’ve got to go outside and pick some rosemary. I say ‘outside’. It’s so overgrown through lack of care, it’s nudging up against the back window.