Chip is poorly today. Awww. She has a nasty cough, but isn’t too bad otherwise, just feverish. Enough to stay home with Mummy and have some TLC. She has written a Christmas list, as follows:
secret dairy [sic]
remote control packed lunch
remote control trantulla spider [sic] so I can scare my sister
I should write a book ‘Life with Chip’. Never a dull moment when she’s around. Chip and Fluff were at the Brownies Christmas Fair last night and (according to Fluff) Chip managed to spill the money box onto the floor, spilling all the coins, which she then helpfully picked up while secreting 50p into her pocket. Fluff says Chip then stood up and announced she had ‘another 50p in my pocket, look!’ I suspect the lady knew what was going on but let her have another five goes on the tombola anyway…
Chip and I have also just had a conversation regarding her behaviour which went something like this:
C: But Mummy, I fink there’s something wrong with my brain.
S: Why’s that, Chip?
C: It keeps making me be naughty!
S: No, you choose when you do something naughty.
C: But I don’t want to be naughty! My brain just keeps making me! I don’t mean to.
S: Well, you just have to try, little Chip.
C: It’s just no good! <throws hands up in air in exasperation> The only person who can help is the doctor. He can make me better. Or she… Only the doctor can make me stop being naughty. Pleeeeaaase let me see the doctor, Mummy?
Bats her eyelashes and gives me her bestest bashful look. And I get my laptop out and start writing 😉