"Getting heckled by a baby is like being heckled by a drunk guy" – Meet the Leeds mum behind Milk Club Comedy

There is an adage that looking after a drunk friend on a night out is akin to minding a baby.

It is a sentiment that Leeds comedian Frankie B completely agrees with - though in her line of work, the rowdy hecklers are part and parcel of the scenery.

At Milk Club Comedy, her most ardent and vocal critics just happen to be under the age of 18 months.

“We normally get heckled by the babies rather than the mums," Frankie laughs. "But getting heckled by a baby is very similar to getting heckled by a drunk guy - they make about as much sense as each other."

For the Yorkshire-born performer, managing a room full of infants and sleep-deprived parents isn't entirely uncharted territory.

In fact, she jokes that her chaotic twenty-something nights out in Leeds prepared her perfectly for the day shift of motherhood.

"It is just like looking after a drunk person."

Milk Club Comedy started life back in November 2024 when Frankie was going through a period of post-natal depression and pregnant with her second child; it would be the isolation experienced during this time that led to the idea to have a comedy performance, which was at a more convenient time for parents and their kin.

"I honestly made this selfishly at first," Frankie admits. "I made it to get me out of postnatal depression, and to make sure I wasn't going to get it again."

“You kind of forget as a mum how to laugh”

Having previously announced her second pregnancy live on stage during a charity stand-up performance, Frankie quickly realised that standard, sanitised baby groups were failing to provide the raw, adult outlet that isolated parents desperately required.

"You kind of forget as a mum how to laugh," she explains. "You do the smiley faces at your kids, but when was the last time your baby actually saw you laugh?

“Milk Club became an opportunity for mums to get their personalities and their own identities back—to be in a room with other people who just get it. It’s not about your baby; it’s about you."

Instead of forcing a cheerful, "Goo Goo Ha Ha" (one of four original names for the club before settling on Milk Club Comedy) persona in rooms dominated by nursery rhymes and soft play, she wanted to talk to parents like adults.

As Frankie explains: “Milk Club became an opportunity for mums to get their personalities and their own identities back—to be in a room with other people who just get it. It’s not about your baby; it’s about you."

It is this uncompromising commitment to authenticity that draws a vital line between Milk Club and your standard parent-and-toddler group; to clarify, this is not a "family-friendly" event watered down for gentle sensibilities.

Instead, it is an actual nighttime comedy club experience that happens to run during the day, and for Frankie, that distinction is everything, and she protects it fiercely through a strict set of house rules.

"My strictest rule is don't change anything about your set," Frankie emphasises. "The parents need to feel that they have gone out to nighttime comedy, not that you're changing anything for them."

That means the material stays raw, the punchlines stay blue, and the language stays entirely unfiltered.

To ensure this uncompromising environment doesn't result in impressionable toddlers expanding their vocabularies with colourful green-room language, the club enforces a strict age limit: all babies must be under 18 months old.

"So they don't repeat any swear words," Frankie notes practically.

Aside from the age cap, the unique logistics of a daytime comedy floor—where play mats litter the floor and infants are free to crawl—require only one other golden rule for touring comics.

As Frankie puts it: "Don't step on a child, and don't change your performance."

From a local lifeline to the Leeds Playhouse

It is a formula that has proven to be an overnight sensation. In just 18 months, Milk Club has entirely outgrown two venues, tracking an expansion rate that highlights a massive local demand for authentic, adult spaces - including taking the show outdoors with their ‘Comedy in the Garden ‘event in July.

The club's next chapter sees it scaling up to the Bingley Arts Centre for a 10:00am morning slot. To ensure the late-night atmosphere remains entirely intact, Frankie successfully negotiated with the venue to pull their alcohol license forward. "It’s a nighttime show brought to the daytime," she smiles. "If you want a glass of wine at 10:00am you can get one."

This meteoric rise hasn't just caught the attention of sleep-deprived parents; it has captured the city's premier cultural institutions. Milk Club was recently accepted into the prestigious Open Season programme at Leeds Playhouse, securing a high-profile slot.

Reflecting on a journey that began at her lowest ebb with postnatal depression, Frankie remains marvelled by how rapidly her personal coping mechanism became a civic institution.

"I never expected to outgrow a venue over my first two shows," she reflects. "It just makes me so happy that I can do something like this, and it's rewarding.

“It’s about parents reclaiming who they are."

For tickets and info on the upcoming 'Comedy in the Garden' festival or upcoming events, visit the Milk Club social channels or milkclubcomedy.com.