The Coughing Cavalier And The Fairy Dressmaker

Mummy isn't very well. She has a nasty cough and is all snuffly. Because of this she hasn't slept in the bedroom for two nights. It's miffed me right off because Daddy just isn't as good at popping my dummy back in and patting me back off to sleep when I howl at the moon. Plus of course with Mummy not there, there isn't anyone to poke him in the ribs and stop his snoring. Terrible it is, like a warthog being dragged through a threshing machine.

On Friday afternoon Daddy and Amber took me to Granny and Grandad's along the beach in the Tank. I was already in a crabby mood however, after Daddy did a great big sneeze before we got in the car down to Mudeford Quay and made me jump. And Yell. A lot. So I was already feeling seriously snippy and eventually Daddy had to take me out of the Tank and carry me for half a mile or so until we reached the part where we have nowhere else we can go but the Beach.

Well, I wasn't best pleased to get put back in for that part, no sir. I howled, but Daddy was his usual awkward self and strapped me in anyway. This might be because he knows me very well, and knows that after about one flat minute of jouncing and bouncing on the sandy beach, I'll go to sleep for sure. And I did, too.

When I woke back up later on after Daddy had managed to maneouvre the Tank over the sand, he seemed to be a lot redder than before. Funny that. Still, he says it helped keep him warm after shaving his head about 15 minutes before we set out. Maybe that was why I saw his scalp turning blue.

We didn't stay at Granny's too long after Daddy and Amber had their lunch there, with me naturally sat on Daddy's knee and making all possible effort to either a) pull the mat and everything on it off the table or at the very least b) give Daddy indigestion. Ah well, at least one out of two isn't bad.

On Friday night it was Halloween, but as Daddy was out Gaming with Uncle Julian and Amber was at Granny's, there was no trick or treating going on. Besides, Daddy used to take Halloween quite...seriously, and he thinks that only new people knock on the door now on account of the things he has done to trick or treaters in previous years. My big sister says that not many people dare to pick marshmallows off the point of a bloodstained kitchen knife and so they go where the pickings are a bit less fraught with nappy-wetting terror.

The first year Mummy moved down from Yorkshire, when trick or treaters knocked on the door Mummy would open it and run away screaming in fake terror while Daddy chased her with the kitchen knife and then dragged her back inside, still screaming. Anyone who knocked on the door a second time would get sweeties.

I do wonder about my Daddy sometimes.

Anyway, despite Mummy putting a big sign on the door asking people not to knock on the door after my bedtime, a very silly boy who was more than big enough to read the sign still did, and he really banged on it too. It made me stir, and Mummy was very annoyed. But as I subsided again, he banged on the door again even harder than the first time, and she opened it and said some mean but justifiable things to him and his mummy who was standing across the road. Something about having him spend a bit more time in school and learning to read instead of trick or treating I think it was. Daddy thought it was harsh, but also fair.

Yesterday Mummy managed to fight through the unbearable ickyness of being and went to play her first hockey match with her new team. She said she felt much less ill running around in a wet field than she did when she came back home. Daddy said she must be allergic to my sister, which earned him a ding from both of them. I really do wonder about my Daddy sometimes.

Last night's bathtime was great fun too. I managed some serious legkicking and got water over my sister, which was good stuff. But then Daddy had a bit of a moment with the talc and it kind of exploded out of the container in his face as Mummy had mixed them up and this one doesn't have solid sides. And judging by the amount of talc on his trousers, T-Shirt and face he must normally squeeze the solid one quite hard when he opens it up.

Really am wondering about Daddy now.

It got better though. I must have managed to loosen the plastic plug thingy on the bath just as Daddy lifted me out to dry me. So it was juuuuuuuust ready to pop out of place as poor Daddy lifted it off the floor.

I shall draw a polite veil over the proceedings in the next few moments. Let's just say I don't think I ever want to know what some of those grownup words mean.

Later on Mummy went off to a Halloween Party (just for an hour due to her ickyness) at her friend Sam's. She wore her short skull dress and her cool Vampire cloak that Aunty Fi made her. Who's Aunty Fi?


This is Aunty Fi. She is the bestest dressmaker ever. She made Mummy's wedding dress and makes all her own costumes for those LARP thingies Daddy likes to do, as well as other people's.

This is Mummy's Vampire Cloak that Aunty Fi made. Isn't it cool?


After she passed her driving test the first long trip Aunty Fi took was to come down here to sunny Christchurch to see me. She is one of the best cooers ever. Mummy and Daddy say they are very lucky that she is their friend. Apparently when they first met Daddy was a Dwarf and Aunty Fi was a fairy who had lost her kingdom in a game of Poker.

Still worrying quite a lot about Daddy actually.

It was at this Conception thingy that Mummy and Daddy met at. That's me in the picture that flashes up near the top of the screen on the website, by the way. Only you can't see me because I'm in Mummy's tummy still.

Well I'd better go off for my last feed now. I think poor Daddy is experiencing typing fatigue as I've been demanding enough that it's taken him most of the day to write this post. Bless.

Night night and sleep tight everyone.