Last week I opened the floor up to the toddler terror to have his little rant. This week its the turn of Baby Boy.
I have translated all cries so there may have been some misunderstanding on his actual rant. This is through no fault of my own. Babies are tough to read.
Why does mummy INSIST on dropping food on me? Does she not know that this baby grow is designer? I do NOT want Chilli con Carne stains over it. Humph.
It is NOT designer, unless you count good old Georgay. And it’s a hand-me-down to boot. So the stains can be from eating over your head or your big brothers. The easy solution? Stop needing feeding when I’m trying to eat.
Change my nappy now. I have done a mega poo. I mean mega. Come on. Come on. Come on. Faster. Faster. Erm. Why are you unpopping me? And taking my nappy off? It’s cold. I don’t like it. Now I’m going to wee on you see if you like that. Ha.
No I don’t like that. Problem is you poo in your nappy it needs to be changed. To change it, get this, I have to take the dirty one off. I know. A crime against humanity. I would be quicker if you weren’t so angry and kicking your legs around. Honest. I would. Why don’t we try it? No? More wee on me. Delightful.
I need feeding NOW. Why have you covered up your milk giving boobs from the gods?
You mean saggy, deflated #ginormous nipple monstrosities that are likely to spray you and every one in a 10 foot radius with milk. And they are covered up so I can walk the streets decently. And because you decided you were finished and were asleep. For a whole 5 seconds. I snuck them away. Don’t worry. I know my place *flops them back out* sigh, you can’t half tell I’m breastfeeding.
Ahhh nipple, I’m asleep. Woah. Hang on woman. What are you doing?? PUT. THE. NIPPLE. BACK. NOW.
I only want to put my boob away. Please? No? OK then you’re the boss.