Monday, 3 May 2010

Italian Tipple

Lunch out on Bank Holiday Monday. Whenever Mummy turns her back, I now make a lunge for her white wine. Milk, shmilk. Just don't let on...


Sunday, 18 April 2010

Sunday, 4 April 2010

Horse Power at Beaulieu

After a nice breakfast with Grandpa and GG we set off for a drive back in time to Beaulieu to meet Auntie Stephanie and Pillsbury Phil. Once we'd broken away from the several thousand cars all crawling into Lyndhurst, we raced through the forest and pulled up at Monty's for a spot of lunch.

Beaulieu is a funny old place. It's full of nice old cars and cranky old horses; after a fine lunch (thank you Phil), we went to have a look at both. After spotting a nice old silver DB6 being serviced in the garage we went to meet an old silver nag outside the ice cream shop. Phil went to give the old gal a pat on the head and got nothing but a kick in the shins for his troubles.

Nature's all very well and good, but when it comes to horses I prefer them under the bonnet or on the race track. Or in my tube of Pritt Stick.


p.s. You can see from this photo that M&D have taken to lumping me round in a rucksack. The gusset rides right up. Right up. Thank you Uncle Dan and Auntie Sue.

Saturday, 27 March 2010


It's a cheap trick, you know. Just because I can't walk or talk right now, doesn't mean you can go leaving me places anytime you feel like.

M&D, I'm talking to you so listen up. A young man could develop a complex, you know. Distracting me with a rice cake and then making a dash for it is not a great advert for perfect parenting. Well poo to you both, with nobs on.

I'm having a much nicer time here with Nanna and Grandad anyway. Nanna's made me a lovely tea and Grandad is teaching me boxing and drums and about all the plants in the garden. I'll be fine here, thank you. Don't bother coming back for me. You'll be hearing from my lawyer in due course.


Friday, 26 March 2010

Crawling, but not as we know it

Sitting up has given me a splendid new perspective on life. Rather than stare at the ceiling all day long, I can now look about me and see what's what. And when there's not much about I can watch my toes and yank off my socks - the most fun a boy can have.

But one step at a time. I've got little interest in moving anywhere: I just don't see the appeal in this 'crawling' thing. If a toy is out of reach I make a half-hearted lunge for it before making a frustrated growl and it's brought to me!

However, over the past few weeks I've been learning a different type of crawl. Every Thursday Mummy takes me to Teddington Pool for swimming lessons. I splish, splash and kick my legs around with the other water babies. I chase a ball by kicking my legs really hard and Mummy even dunks me, which is very trying if I'm honest.

Today was my last lesson and as a test I had to hold on to the rail and bob about the place all on my own. It was fun for a second or two, before I got bored and let go. So today, the most important lesson I learned was that little boys with porky bellies don't float.