Chickie Cooper

Everyday, my blissful morning snoozies are cut short by Chickie’s shrill, ear-piercing screeches which, despite my best and most imaginative efforts, are proving difficult to ignore.

Well, this morning I threw aside my ear-plugs with the wild abandonment of a mother whose child is on a sleepover at Nanna and Grandad’s house. I slept like a baby.

The baby didn’t. He summoned Snowy at midnight and Glam-Nan at 5am for a little chat, head-strokies and cuddles.

I was disappointed in Chickie. I had spent a long time explaining to him that no matter what time he woke up, he was to soundlessly amuse himself until 9am at which time he could softly coo and giggle cutely to attract attention.

My diet is going quite well. I’ve lost 4lbs so far by not eating. Ok, I have eaten but have cut out yummy sauces, yummy potatoes, yummy pasta, yummy treats and generally anything with the word ‘yummy’ in front of it. I’ll admit, life is bleak but just a quick wobble of the bellies is enough to make me put the biscuit back. I do feel quite sorry for myself each day when I open my decorative advent calendar to reveal a drawing of a snowflake whilst Accountant is stood by my side scoffing nine days worth of chocolate from his.

Chickie went to the Barbers today with Daddy. I convinced Accountant that it was a crucial part of a baby’s development to attend the barbers to ensure they aren’t “hair phobic” in later life. He fell for this and I got all my housework done that I’d neglected to do earlier in the week due to essential shopping sprees.

There is one other of my duties that I’ve let go slightly. Yes, my household nemesis, the ironing. I’m currently hatching a plan to get Accountant to do the 15 shirts that form the icing on the ironing cake. I know football’s on tomorrow, so am sensing an opportunity!

Chickie’s now doing impressions. He’s started going, “Whatzz ‘at” in a Tommy Cooper voice.