The Delinquents

The Chickie / Perfect Poff wedding is off. Mummy is intervening now that P. Poff is no longer considered a suitable life partner for her little boy.

The adorable, golden haired angel has transformed into a two foot tearaway overnight. Naturally, I’m loving it. Swearing and shoplifting, turning up to Kids Kingdom with a dolphin tattoo. Fabulous.

Admittedly, she learnt the four letter S word from Accountant on holiday, but it’s continued daily use is delightfully unacceptable. Then there’s the attempted shoplifting of spaghetti hoops at the Supermarket. “Oh S#!t” she said, when apprehended by security who had clocked the tattooed baby on their cctv as she tried to shove the tin down her nappy. She was released without charge.

Now that Poff has gone off the rails, an opening presents itself for the coveted “Best In Show” award and Chickie’s in the running. Poff isn’t the only baby to switch sides. Since dropping more poo than an elephant with food poisoning, my Chickie has colour in his cheeks, a spring in his step and a sunnier outlook on life.

The only slight drawback is the epic naps I bragged about just days ago are already a thing of the past. Chickie now has so much energy, he has no need for sleep and has taken to screaming, “No, No, No” when taken anywhere near his cot for naps or bedtime.

However, on the cutesy wutesy side, he now holds his hands out asking for “cuggles”, shouts for “mummy” in the morning and requests “bib-icks” (biscuits) whenever in the vicinity of the yummy cupboard. Give the boy a red rosette. He’s just scrummy.