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The Secret Diary of a 3 Year Old

MONDAY
Played a game where I pretended to be Daddy. Try as I might I couldn’t quite manage to get fat, old and decrepid in the short time we were playing.
TUESDAY
Asked Daddy to get in the bath with me and then leathered him right in the tezzers. He yelped like a frog who’d just discovered he’d mistakenly booked his anniversary meal at a local French restaurant so I seized the moment and jammed my big toe into his ring piece. He got straight out muttering something to Mummy about needing counselling.
WEDNESDAY
Potty training begins tomorrow. Consumed several 9000 calorie, high intensity carbo-fibre megaportions in preparation.
THURSDAY
Mummy asked if I needed a poo. I said no. She asked if I was sure. I said no. She asked if I meant no I didn’t need a poo or no I wasn’t sure. I said no. Just as I was quietly bemoaning her ridiculous line of questioning, I shat myself. She seemed disappointed but I think if she’s really honest with herself, she’ll know it was all her fault. The woman is an arse.
FRIDAY
Managed to catch a glimpse of the horrible shite I did in the potty. Never really looked at it properly before. Has it been coming out my hoop like that the whole time?
SATURDAY
The best time to almost cack yourself is dinnertime. Not only do you gross everyone completely off their food and stink the gaff out with noxious bum fumes, but you can polish off your pizza while you squeeze one out. Delicious AND efficient.
SUNDAY
Dear Diary, today I invented something so beautiful and yet so gruesome. I call it ‘The Absent Turd.’ Part mystery, part artistic statement. Especially when craftily left behind a door that opens outwards. They won't find that for weeks.
To be continued...

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