The adventures of Sir Whingealot Farty Pants

Woke up, had a whinge. Bashed mummy with a book. Gave penguin a drink. Ate a few cornflakes and a bit of bread, didn't fancy the jam though. Had a whinge. Mummy starts doing something up on the worktop. I can't see what's going on. I have a whinge. See satsuma, squeal, get satsuma. Finished it, whinge a bit more. Mummy disappears out of the front door. Have a really big squeal. She comes back with a sling and chucks me on her back. I whinge a bit and squirm while she's doing it. Oh, I can see what she's doing on the worktop now. She says she's making bolognese sauce for lunch. She gives me a piece of diced carrot. It's a bit hard when you don't have many teeth. I squirm about a bit to get a better view, and dig my toes into her back to get up higher. Feeling a bit tired now though. Big sigh. Yay, she's put the picture box in the corner of the living room on. I can chill out while I stare at that. Can't even be bothered to whinge any more.

Back out of the sling, sitting on mummy's knee watching the box. Mmm, comfy. Oh, now mummy says we can't sit here all day and that if I'm not going to sleep she'll have to go and have a shower and get dressed. I don't know how long we've been sitting here. I like clocks, but I can't tell the time, I'm only 17 months old. We're going upstairs now, she's put me down on the landing. Time for a whinge. She's putting the shower on. Ooh, a crocodile. Where's mummy? She's in the shower, think I'll hand her her pyjamas, that'll be helpful. Why is she hanging them over the top of the bathroom door instead of putting them on? I'll try the towel. She's actually using it. I want it back now, want to hide under it. Whinge, want towel. Got the towel. I'm hiding mummy. Mummy's gone, where's she hiding? Whinge. She's getting dressed. I want to climb on the bed and look out of the window. Can't. Whinge. I'll go into the bathroom and climb on the toilet instead. Might stick my tongue out and lick the lid while I'm about it, wonder when she cleaned it last. Aarrgh, where's my sleepsuit gone? Ooh, where's the world gone? Ah, there it is over the top of my t-shirt.

We're off downstairs again. Ooh a satsuma. Mummy says I've already had one and can't have another. Whinge. Now we're getting in the car. Don't want to. Whinge. Off we go. Sleepy, sleepy, asleep.

Mummy can report that Sir Whingealot Farty Pants is now asleep dreaming of fierce crocodiles. It is 10am. Time for a cuppa.