Skip to main content

The Secret Diary of a 22 Month Old (Part 32)

MONDAY
Went to the zoo today. All the animals looked pretty pissed off apart from this one pigeon we saw in the car park, although to be fair I think she comes and goes when she wants. Best bit was when the gorilla did a massive dump in his hand and threw it at everyone. Big People freaked out. I made a mental note for next time they put me in the play pen.

TUESDAY
I’m sick of everyone assuming that just because someone is a similar age to me that we’ll instantly be best mates. Sometimes we have literally nothing in common. What are we supposed to bond over? The fact we can’t control our bowel movements? Maybe we’ll hit it off with a thrilling conversation about which fashionable brand of nappies we’re sporting this season or better still, exchange dietary tips? Do me a favour.

WEDNESDAY
Can't be sure but think one of the Big People did a trump today and blamed it on me. I know I'm quite new here but that doesn't seem fair. Gonna fill my nappy tomorrow and blame them.

THURSDAY
Got some new books but for me, there’s nothing more relaxing than sitting down with a book I’m really familiar with. I must have read that one about the farm a million times and despite the fact there’s no real story, character development or a satisfying conclusion, it really moves me. Plus it’s fun to hear the Big People try to inject some false enthusiasm into their voice when I demand we read it again.

FRIDAY
Getting sick of complete strangers squeezing my cheeks. Here’s an idea – if I don’t know you, don’t touch my face. How does that sound?

SATURDAY
Learned a new noise today. Cross between a cough and a scream. Did it all day. Forgot to nap. Big People weren’t impressed. Made the noise at them. They seemed even less impressed.

SUNDAY
Cried in the night so ended up in the Big People’s bed. It was so much fun – I clawed at both their faces, head-butted Mummy twice and kicked Daddy square in the bollocks. We were all having a great time together so to say I was disappointed when they put me back in my own cot is a massive understatement.

Follow me on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter...

Comments

my website said…
Great post. I’d like to mark like this too attractive event and real hard work to make an enormous article. Extremely attractive blog. A lot of blogs, I see these days don't really present anything that I'm interested in.but I'm most definitely interest in this one. I am in reality happy with article quality and direction. This post is spot on in enlightening how some ideology applies to any writing position. Thanks a lot for preservation huge stuff. I am extremely a good deal thankful used designed for this position.
Unknown said…
Coming off a challenging year, with a drop in tourism impacting Longchamp Outlet sales on home turf in 2016 following the series of terrorist attacks that have rocked the country, branching out into eyewear will also help open up visibility Cheap Longchamp via a different distribution network, Cassegrain said. “Our accessories are sold in around 1,500 points of sale, 300 of which are our own, and the rest a mix of department Longchamp Outlet Online stores, duty-free and multibrand stores. The eyewear will be distributed to several thousand opticians.
Anonymous said…
That is very important one I’m additionally a writer i have writing a couple of article and essay papers on-line have a many writing service are available one of the maximum popular writing carrier is custom dissertation writing provider maximum of the scholars are get essays and thesis papers form this text this is very essential one.

Popular posts from this blog

The Time I Smeared Shit on the Duvet

My wife and I developed our parenting systems through trial and error. One of the earliest rules we’d introduced was that if it was after 5am and one of the babies became unsettled, we wouldn’t waste our time trying to get them back down in their cot - we’d just bring them in with us. After a nice cuddle in our bed, they’d normally settle back down, barring the occasional impromptu fanny gouge or affable bollock kick. (Babies are the most violent sleepers on the planet, easily capable of committing GBH in the middle of reaching for their dummy.) Our twins were six months old. I was fast asleep. At least, the deepest sleep you can get once your kids arrive. My pre-kids sleep used to be the nocturnal equivalent of deep sea diving. Nowadays I’m lucky if I can submerge my toes in a puddle. Early on, my sleep was lighter than a Ryvita biscuit who’d been having it off with a helium canister they’d met on Tinder. Everything woke me up. Some nights I’d just lie there, bewi...

The Time I Screamed at my Kids

Before my kids arrived I swore I’d never shout at them. But choosing how to approach parenthood before your kids are born is like a caterpillar deciding what kind of butterfly they’re gonna be while they’re still building the cocoon. ‘I’ll still do loads of charity work, of course. And I’ll be REALLY nice to moths too, even though they’ll probably hate me because I’ll be so bloody gorgeous.’ Theory and reality are like sugar and shit. I’ve raised my voice to my kids more times than I can count. Often just to shout ‘STOP SHOUTING!’ which I’m aware doesn’t set a great example. ‘You should NEVER shout at your kids.’ And that’s fine. In theory. Because everything’s fine in theory. The Slimfast diet is a piece of piss until day two when you’ve had three hours sleep and someone offers you a Wagon Wheel. Of course, I never WANT to shout at them. I love them more than words can describe. But those you love are also the ones blessed with the innate ability to boil your piss q...

The Time I Embarrassed Myself on a Bouncy Castle

Kids love bouncy castles. And why not? They’re bouncy and unpredictable, like Kanye West on a pogo stick. But just like Calpol, crayons and eating your own bogeys, the allure of the bouncy castle tends to dissipate as we reach adulthood. I’m not someone who lists ‘castle bouncing’ as a hobby these days. My kids, on the other hand, love a good bouncy castle. The bouncier the better. The only thing they love more than a GOOD bouncy castle is a REALLY BAD bouncy castle. Especially those ones that haven’t undergone a decent risk assessment since mullets were cool. In fact, the more dubious the health and safety standards appear to a casual bystander, the more keen my kids are to dive on headfirst and find the hazards. So. We’re at a farm park. We’re enjoying the standard parental farm park experience - the kids are interested in everything EXCEPT the very farm animals that we just paid a whopping £37.50 to visit. (BTW - My son’s favourite animal at Chester Zoo was ...