Yesterday was an interesting day… instead of our usual morning routine, imagine my surprise when Daddy was the one to lift me from the cot instead of you… Well; the early-morning pre-make-up state which I come to recognise as you, that is.
Overall – I was fairly happy with his performance, he’s worked his way up to a solid 7/10 I would say. But I feel it’s only fair that I highlight a few things: he didn’t sing the breakfast song, my porridge was below par (lumpy and luke-warm), I remained in my pyjamas until nearly 11am, and then when we did get dressed I looked like I’d fallen through a jumble sale for the colour-blind… HOWEVER he put Thundercats on while swinging me by the ankles and let me eat an entire cookie almost the size of my face…. so he managed to redeem himself in the end.
I was not happy that after getting out of bed at MIDDAY, you briefly entered the living room, gave me one cuddle and then descended back up the stairs to have a bath. A very strange bath without Peppa Pig and the Octopals, where you kept very still with your eyes closed. How boring. Perhaps you have the bath confused with bed?
When you did FINALLY re-appear, you looked different… Your hair looked all neat and your face had nice colours on the eyes and mouth, and you weren’t wearing your dressing gown… I think this happened once before on your birthday perhaps… Odd.
Daddy kept getting you glasses of this weird stuff with bubbles in which seemed to make you smile. A LOT. I expect it must be made out of bananas as they do the same thing to me. Daddy then gave you some presents, which he said were from me, but I didn’t want the awkwardness of telling you I had nothing to do with it so I took the thanks. And the wrapping paper. And another cookie.
THEN Granny came over and you said you were going somewhere to get something called ‘pissed‘. You seemed to think that was really good so I can only think it’s something like soft play or swimming and was quite surprised that I wasn’t allowed to come. In fact I’ve made a note of this and plan to really f@*k up your Thursday this week. Just so you know.
Daddy said all this stuff happened because it was something called ‘Mother’s Day’ but surely you’re a Mummy every day? Weird. Anyway I thought I should write and let you know I don’t want this shit happening again. And that I’ll be requiring only cookies for dinner from now on. And that below is a picture of my disappointed face. And that Peppa Pig had better be back in the f@*king tub.