Fun Daddy

Hubby has been Fun Daddy ever since he got back: reading stories, rough housing etc. etc.
I think the novelty is starting to wear off a bit though.
We went to a soft play centre today, to meet some lovely friends (who also have three kids so don't think it's strange that we always turn up half an hour late with nappy cream smeared down our jeans. And also they have nothing to do with the army, which is always a bit more than a breath of fresh air - maybe a blast of sea breeze or a waft of freshly mown grass. Ah!).
Anyway, we'd barely started our cups of tea and general chat when Hubby/Fun Daddy was dragged off to romp in the ball pool and generally be a fair weather father. One of the lovely friends remarked on what a good dad Hubby was and I replied that whilst that was of course true, I suspected there would be a certain amount of martyrdom and chuntering to come.
And I was proved right as soon as we got in the car to come home, when Hubby said he was feeling tense and had barely had time to draw breath, what with entertaining six kids all morning. I replied that I felt he had missed the fundamental point of taking your children to these places, which is to ignore them for two hours and have a chat with your mates/read the paper. You can worry about head injuries/biting incidents or you can sit back, enjoy your latte and pretend you are in a cafe, without children, simply by averting your gaze.
I'm not sure why this is so hard for him to do in a soft play centre, when he manages it perfectly well at home when he is watching Top Gear...