Dear WallyBoy AKA ‘Frog’,
Firstly, I’d like to express my disappointment that you are not a girl. But given this is not entirely your fault, I’ll let you off. And have Daddy whipped for this. With his own kidneys.
Secondly, as I’ve been on the outside of that same uterus for over two and a half years now, I thought I’d impart some wise words to you, so you won’t have the learn the hard way as I did. This world is not easy… they try to make you eat something called ‘broccoli’ and apparently it’s not polite to play with your turds whilst they are leaving your body… I know right… *rolls eyes*… It’s tough out here, but stick with me kid and we’ll make it through… stick with me…
Stay in there for as long as possible. It’s always f@*king raining out here and I’ve just had my bath crayon privileges removed after sharting during a particularly exciting episode of Octonauts while naked on the sofa. Bastards.
Once you are on the outside you get to enjoy boobs. They’re awesome.
If you’re going to vom, always aim for the eyes, hair and/or mouth. I’ve heard Mummy actually prefers it.
Insist on picking out your own clothes and NEVER leave the house without bunches and a fairy wand.
Shoes should never match. I don’t know which twat decided to sell them in pairs…
Just as you are about to leave for the day, THIS is the optimum moment to shit. AKA ‘The Shit Window’.
Don’t EVER let Daddy dress you. You’ll soon find out why. Unless you enjoy looking like a c@*t.
Daddy is the weak one. A simple smile and he’s your bitch for life… If you sense you’re losing him, use your toe-nails to lacerate his face. Like gang tagging.
Mummy is harder, but using a combination of cake and something called ‘gin’ you can pretty much get her to do anything.
If she isn’t playing ball, I find a swift stamp/punch combo to the vagina usually does the trick…
Never let the folks get too much sleep. Makes them too chirpy. You get more biscuits when they’re virtually dead from the face down.
There is no such thing as ‘too long’ at the playground. If you’re getting tired, head for the swings and remind Daddy that THIS SWING DON’T PUSH ITSELF BITCH.
With regards to ice cream, if you can lift it with one hand, it’s not big enough.
Whatever anyone tells you… the answer is yes. You can ride cats.
Your hands may be small, but with some careful nail-nibbling you can turn those beauties into serious grippers/weapons… YOU decide when the hug is over. YOU DECIDE.
Once you discover chips, you too will understand there is really no point in vegetables. No matter how hard they try to hide them in your omelettes. YOU’RE NOT AN IDIOT.
Unicorns are real and one lives in the downstairs toilet.
Together we will be able to f@*k this joint up so badly, Mummy won’t remember what her living room ever used to look like…
Also. never let Mummy sit on the sofa. I don’t know why. Just don’t.
They’ll lie and tell you it’s fun, but do not let them take you to IKEA.
And finally, always laugh at your own farts. Especially in the bath… I like to call them Barts.