6am: My three kids wake up, so I turn on Sunrise and tell them they can have a biscuit each time the funny bald man says something wrong/sexist/racist/rude.
8am: Wife wakes me and tells me that the kids have gone through 20 packets of biscuits. Thanks a lot, Kochie, keep your stupid opinions to yourself. You’ve kick-started obesity in my house. I fake a sudden case of malaria and stay in bed.
9am: Wife forces me to get up and walk kids to school. I pull on my coat over my pyjamas and walk them to school. Have argument with teacher because she won’t take my three year old. “But he wants to learn,” I yell.
10am: Head to the park with the three year old. Still no shower. As I am a dad in a park I check my iPhone every ten seconds. End up reading tweets from people I don’t even like. Convince my son that the park is closing soon and we have to head to the shops.
11am: Go to the local shops and head straight for the sushi shop, where I indulge in some healthy eating: deep fried chicken wrapped in rice with mayonnaise. I never realised being so healthy was so easy. Wash this down with Diet Coke as that has chemicals with offset the fattening food.
12am: Now really starting to stink, so go to local pool for swim. Have realised I have no bathers for me or my son. Go in my undies. It’s Northcote Pool; this is a common occurrence.
1pm: Head home after a great morning of father and son bonding. Realise I’ve left him at the pool… have to turn around and go back to get him.
2pm: Time for a siesta. Kid doesn’t want to sleep but I do. I collapse on the couch while he plays with the cat. The cat attacks, he screams, I wake up, no broken bones, another successful parenting episode.
3.30pm: Time for school pick-up. The other two kids want a snack so we go to the milk bar and choose an icy pole. I say, "Let’s make this an early dinner," and we get a sausage roll each.
5pm: Can’t be bothered doing the whole bath and book thing, so I let the kids run under the sprinkler while I read out the Coles catalogue: "Whole chickens $9.99" as they jump through the water.
6pm: “Early to bed makes a happy kid”, I say. And more time for Daddy to get on the internet and look up important things like: whatever happened to the fat kid from Hey Dad? (He became a Mormon – true).
7pm: Oldest son reminds me he is 17 now and should be allowed to stay up. I crack it and say, "When Fat Cat waves goodnight at 7.30, you go to bed!”
Dave O’Neil appears in You Don’t Really Have A Job, Do You Dad? during the Melbourne International Comedy Festival at Hairy Little Sista, 240 Little Collins Street, Melbourne from March 29 to April 21.