Dear fellow grape-smugglers, cat whisperers and fruit-shoot enthusiasts,
It’s come to my attention that January is the time for new lifestyle choices (well, when parents lie to everyone about their gin/general alcohol consumption levels for a month or so…). So in the spirit (see what I did there *winks*) of the New Year, I have compiled my own list of resolutions, ones which I can actually stick to. Unlike the elusive #dryjanuary. Which is mostly a pile of smug bollocks for people who post pictures of their cats on Facebook.
So take note fellow small humans, from the 1st January onwards I shall mostly be:
- Using only my Bob the Builder spoon to eat everything. EV-REE-THING. Including lasagne*.
- *also applies to other meat-based meals… Including naked varieties…
- Jogging. Non-stop. To rhythm of my own awesomeness.
- Upping my Cheerios consumption.
- Demanding a Christmas Tree in my bedroom.
- Going for the all or nothing approach with hair clips. Clothing. And twerking.
- Producing all my poos behind the sofa. Or as I now like to call it the ‘pooey corner of shame’.
- Requesting ‘specific’ episodes of Peppa Pig which I expect to be up and running in a predetermined timeframe otherwise I’ll be bringing you a present from the pooey corner of shame.
- Doing the Five/Two diet – Five bananas on weekdays, but just two on weekends… subsititued with pizza and yoghurt.
- Patenting my own brand of pizza-yoghurt.
- Upping my Daddy-time. Mummy is getting a bit dull and Daddy lets me suck my own feet and eat Philadelphia* straight from the tub.
- *Chocolate Philadelphia**
- **Ok. It’s Nutella
- Changing outfits at least three times a day – When I say I’m the Naked Little Chef, I expect that shit to happen IMMEDIATELY. Before another cat gets injured with a whisk.
- Wearing my Wellies to bed.
- Eating my dinner (pizza-yoghurt) with the cats… on the floor… with my face. (and Bob the Builder spoon)
- Doing more crafts. By which I mean watching Mummy spend half an hour setting up the ‘kill room’ with plastic sheeting, an array of glues, glitters, paints and stickers… then deciding once scrubbed up that I’d rather go and have a shit in the shame corner instead.
- Banning haircuts. THIS INCLUDES FRINGE TRIMS MOTHER – you won’t fool me that way again.
- Sleeping with one eye open in case of mystery sleep-fringe-trimming. This is an actual thing and does happen. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
- Farting more in public. And finding it EVEN funnier.
- Fiddling with my fanjo at toddler group, and when you tell me to stop. I won’t. But I will stare at you. Angrily. As I do it.