Books

I like books. I keep them by the sofa in the sitting room. I look at them often. Not normally by myself. Books are to be shared.

I read with M or D. IWhen I feel like a read I go and collect them. I take them into the sitting room and head for the sofa. I pick up a book and clamber on to the sofa. They know what’s coming. A nice little read. Sometimes they have gone before we start. So I have to fetch them again or start shouting “mummy” or “daddy” or “Emma”. I shout Emma because it’s easy and she always comes.

When they arrive, I park by the cushion, straighten my top and pat the sofa a couple of times. They sit down and the reading starts.

My favourite book is hairy maclary and zacahry quack. It’a about a dog and duck. It has lots of pictures. I point at hairy and say “doggy”. I like to flick through the book. I sometimes start in the middle, sometimes at the back. I read forwards or backwards depending on my mood. When I read from back to front D says I must be japanese. I think I might be as I eat noodles.

I can't get enough of hairy maclary. Once I’ve finished I start the book all over again. I always spot something new. Like hairy maclary. And the story is always different. That’s the good thing about books. They are never the same. So we can all read them again and again.

My other favourite book is Hey I love you. It’s about two mice and a big cat. The big mouse forgot to tell the little mouse he loved him. So the little mouse follows the big mouse. The little mouse goes miles before he catches the big mouse. The little mouse is silly. He should have sent a text. There is a big cat who tries to catch the mice. He wants to eat them. He must be very hungry as he never catches them.

I read before I go to bed. Sometimes I like a nice read in the middle of the night. At 3 in the morning I have a “must read” moment. I shout for M or D. They always come. After I’ve shouted a while. We get up and go downstairs and read hairy maclary a few times. Once is never enough. Then we both go back to bed. Having had a nice read. And a nice break from our beds. Sometimes I do feel a bit tired in the morning. M never is. She’s always up and about. Ready to start the washing and clean the house. All the better for a good read during the night.

G's birthday

It's G's birthday today. He's gone away to celebrate. He's away for a month. It must be a special birthday. He's 14.

We sent him some presents. We all posed for a photo with a big sign saying happy birthday. I didn't want to at first. I wasn't looking my best. So I looked the other way. I thought the photos had finished so I looked round again. M took another. I was not pleased. I have my reputation to protect and mince down my front and spaghetti in my hair does not help.

Still I like G and I hope he has a happy birthday. It will be nice to see him again. I miss the big lump.

Wellies

I do like wellies. I have a blue pair. They are really smart. They go with my pyjamas and sun hat.

I use my wellies when I go outside. M says I should. My wellies are always with me in the garden.

I need wellies as the chickens have nettles as neighbours. I don’t like nettles. They pickle me. If the nettles come close, I hit them with a welly. Sometimes I wear the wellies. Then I dance on the nettles. But only when there are birds singing. I can’t nettle dance without music.

I also have a yellow pair of wellies. They are parked in the cloakroom. They are too big at the moment. I am waiting for my feet to grow or the wellies to shrink. They are quite old so they should be shrinking soon. They used to be Timothy’s wellies. They have his name inside. Timothy is a friend of mine. His mummy gave me his wellies. Maybe because he had been writing in them. I don’t think his mummy likes Timothy. He must be getting really pickled without his wellies.

Wasp invasion

We’ve had a lot of visitors recently. They were not invited. They either flew in from abroad or came from Selby. It was a plague of wasps. There were only a few to begin with. They set up home under the tiles by Em’s window. That was fine but word got around. More wasps kept coming. Their brothers and sisters arrived and their cousins and their cousins’s cousins.

Soon there were thousands of wasps all living by Em’s window. They were not good neighbours. They flew round all day and night. They never went to bed. There was not enough room for them behind the tiles. They buzzed around outside.

M called the wasp man. He arrived in riot gear wearing a hat and mask. He knew about wasps. He said he had to kill the Queen. M didn't seem to mind. He injected some white stuff into the hole behind the tiles. The wasps were not pleased. They buzzed around big time but then packed up and left.

I don’t know if the Queen died. I hope she didn’t. I wanted to meet her next time we went to London.

Chicken pox

I was sent home from nursery the other day. They rang for D to collect me. I’m not sure what I had done. I hadn’t been very naughty. I had knocked Ben over but it was an accident. Both times. Ben is very small. Everyone knocks Ben over. The nursery would be empty if you got sent home for knocking Ben over.

When D arrived one of the helpers chatted to him. I heard her say I’d been spotted. I must have been spotted pushing Ben. D didn’t seem too annoyed.

When I arrived home M was waiting. I thought I was in big trouble but M wasn’t annoyed either. She did take all my clothes off and had a good look at me. There were some spots. They must have come from my spotted top. She looked at my hands. I was worried there might be marks from my Ben pushing. But there was nothing to see.

M told D that the Chicken pox had arrived. I haven’t seen it. But I was out when the postman called.

I have been banned from nursery. I have to stay at home.

I don’t have many visitors. Little J was going to come for a barbeque but he didn’t come. He’ll have been very hungry. We ate his sausages.

I can’t find the chicken pox. I have looked in all the rooms. I asked the chickens about it. They seemed coy but said nothing. The quails couldn't help either.

I spend my time drawing. I’m a pen pusher now. Not a Ben pusher.

M says I’m back at nursery tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it. There’s still no sign of the chicken pox. I’ll ask Ben if he knows about it. If he doesn't, I'll give him a little push just to jog his memory.