Yesterday’s corner time: 3 Minutes.
There was an incident last week, which I haven’t yet mentioned. Once again, I became lost at Chessington World of Adventures.
Mum was walking along chatting to her friend and I stopped to look at a stone on the floor. I thought that this would be a perfect addition to my collection. However, on looking up, Mum was nowhere in sight.
Therefore, I did what any sensible three year old would do. I turned around and walked in completely the opposite direction.
Meanwhile, Mum was frantically looking for me and after 15 minutes, contacted Park Security. Eventually, I was found and was fortunately reunited with my Mum and less fortunately, with Becca also.
The reason why I mention this now is that as a result, I have been tagged. Electronically tagged.
Severe you might think and possibly an infringement of human liberties but not according to my Dad. He believes this will help increase his life expectancy and reduce the number of heart stopping moments.
I’ve got a little tag which is fastened to my belt and starts beeping if I stray too far away from my parents. They also have a hand held sensor device, which alerts them that I’m trying to escape, leading them to my exact location.
This is ruining my games of hide and seek.
In a few months time, I’ll have mastered the dexterity required to undo my belt and instead, I’ll strap it to a whippet.
Let’s see how my Dad’s heart copes with tracking that.
Matthew.
Related Posts: Lost
Friday, October 20, 2006
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Soldier
Yesterday’s corner time: 1 Minute.
We went to visit Windsor Castle on Sunday, so that I could see some real soldiers.
Security was pretty tight at the entrance but I still managed to smuggle in my plastic sword.
I even managed to sneak it past the sniffer dogs but I think the contents of Becca’s nappy may have de-sensitized them. One poor Cocker-Spaniel obviously inhaled a little too deeply when checking her, causing it to reel backwards, eyes watering and spluttering.
It wasn’t too long before I spied my first sentry, guarding one of the gates to the Queen’s residence. He stood very still, holding a special gun with a sharp knife on the top against his shoulder. I’ll have to add one of these to my Christmas list.
Anyway, I strolled casually up to him and enquired as to how his day was proceeding but he didn’t respond. Ok, perhaps he hadn’t heard me, so I shouted it. Still no response. How rude. I was just about to clout him across the shins with my sword when, luckily for the Soldier, Dad intervened.
At this point, the Soldier stamped his foot, did some fancy manoeuvres with his rifle and marched up and down the path, returning to his original position. Scary.
Dad tried to encourage me to stand next to him, so that I could have my picture taken. I told him that he had to be kidding but Dad persisted whispering that the Soldier wouldn’t hurt me and if he tried, then he would stop him.
“You’ll fight the soldier?” I shouted out. This sounded good. Everyone nearby looked around, they obviously thought this sounded good too.
The soldier didn’t move but his eyes flicked across to where we were standing.
“What! Fight? No, no, no – of course I’m not going to fight the soldier!” Dad countered in a rather high-pitched voice and then added in a slightly deeper tone whilst trying to laugh nonchalantly, “Don’t be so silly!”
“You said you would fight the soldier and win,” I wasn’t letting up.
Dad hauled me off in the opposite direction and threatened to stick my sword somewhere the sun never shines. Apparently, he didn’t mean England. How rude.
Matthew.
We went to visit Windsor Castle on Sunday, so that I could see some real soldiers.
Security was pretty tight at the entrance but I still managed to smuggle in my plastic sword.
I even managed to sneak it past the sniffer dogs but I think the contents of Becca’s nappy may have de-sensitized them. One poor Cocker-Spaniel obviously inhaled a little too deeply when checking her, causing it to reel backwards, eyes watering and spluttering.
It wasn’t too long before I spied my first sentry, guarding one of the gates to the Queen’s residence. He stood very still, holding a special gun with a sharp knife on the top against his shoulder. I’ll have to add one of these to my Christmas list.
Anyway, I strolled casually up to him and enquired as to how his day was proceeding but he didn’t respond. Ok, perhaps he hadn’t heard me, so I shouted it. Still no response. How rude. I was just about to clout him across the shins with my sword when, luckily for the Soldier, Dad intervened.
At this point, the Soldier stamped his foot, did some fancy manoeuvres with his rifle and marched up and down the path, returning to his original position. Scary.
Dad tried to encourage me to stand next to him, so that I could have my picture taken. I told him that he had to be kidding but Dad persisted whispering that the Soldier wouldn’t hurt me and if he tried, then he would stop him.
“You’ll fight the soldier?” I shouted out. This sounded good. Everyone nearby looked around, they obviously thought this sounded good too.
The soldier didn’t move but his eyes flicked across to where we were standing.
“What! Fight? No, no, no – of course I’m not going to fight the soldier!” Dad countered in a rather high-pitched voice and then added in a slightly deeper tone whilst trying to laugh nonchalantly, “Don’t be so silly!”
“You said you would fight the soldier and win,” I wasn’t letting up.
Dad hauled me off in the opposite direction and threatened to stick my sword somewhere the sun never shines. Apparently, he didn’t mean England. How rude.
Matthew.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Countdown
Yesterday’s corner time: 4 Minutes.
I snuck into Dad’s office yesterday and hid his daily countdown to my Outward bound course, which was at 2187. Ha! Let’s see how he manages without that!
I was disappointed to see that he had anticipated this move and had three backup copies locked away in a drawer. Not only that but I also discovered that he has an electronic version stored on his PC, which pops up a happy little reminder each time he signs on and is programmed to sound a fanfare on the passing of each week.
I went to complain to Mum and she was absolutely furious. She stormed upstairs to his office and demanded to know what was he thinking? How could he be so inconsiderate? And why hadn’t she been given a copy of the electronic version?
Hmm, not quite the reaction I had expected.
I thought I’d cheer myself up by spending time with someone less fortunate than me and went in search of Becca.
Becca is becoming more annoying with each passing day. Just when I think she’s reached the pinnacle of annoyingness, she manages to surpass all expectations and takes annoying to new and even dizzier heights.
However, today I needed her. I found her in the lounge developing a countdown timer on her abacus. God, she’s annoying.
Matthew.
Related Posts: Outward Bound
I snuck into Dad’s office yesterday and hid his daily countdown to my Outward bound course, which was at 2187. Ha! Let’s see how he manages without that!
I was disappointed to see that he had anticipated this move and had three backup copies locked away in a drawer. Not only that but I also discovered that he has an electronic version stored on his PC, which pops up a happy little reminder each time he signs on and is programmed to sound a fanfare on the passing of each week.
I went to complain to Mum and she was absolutely furious. She stormed upstairs to his office and demanded to know what was he thinking? How could he be so inconsiderate? And why hadn’t she been given a copy of the electronic version?
Hmm, not quite the reaction I had expected.
I thought I’d cheer myself up by spending time with someone less fortunate than me and went in search of Becca.
Becca is becoming more annoying with each passing day. Just when I think she’s reached the pinnacle of annoyingness, she manages to surpass all expectations and takes annoying to new and even dizzier heights.
However, today I needed her. I found her in the lounge developing a countdown timer on her abacus. God, she’s annoying.
Matthew.
Related Posts: Outward Bound
Friday, October 06, 2006
Outward Bound
Yesterday’s corner time: 6 Minutes.
In the morning, I had to visit a school with my parents. I’m not quite sure why but they kept asking me if I liked it. They don’t normally ask my opinion but they seemed very keen to do so yesterday, which was nice of them.
Thinking about it, I appear to be spending a lot more time at pre-school nowadays. I always seem to be going. I don’t really have a good concept of time but I’m sure that I’m attending far more often than before.
I think this may be part of a larger conspiracy by my parents to get rid of me. The Head Teacher of the school yesterday described how the older kids go away for a week’s outward bound course. I overheard Dad whispering to Mum that he couldn’t wait and that it was only six years away. He was quite excited.
In the afternoon, as it was raining, we visited an indoor play area and met up with Emily.
I was running around so much that I became very, very sweaty. So sweaty in fact that Mum decided to swap my tracksuit trousers for a spare pair of Emily’s pink shorts.
At that precise moment, any remaining street credibility that I may have had disappeared along with my tracksuit into my Mum’s bag. What was she thinking? It was social suicide.
To compensate, I had to whack anyone who gave me a second look. But as these numbered quite a few, it took up all my time.
When I got home, I wandered into Dad’s office hoping for a sympathetic ear only to find that he’s started a daily countdown chart to the outward bound course. It’s set to 2190.
Matthew.
Related Posts: Moving Away
In the morning, I had to visit a school with my parents. I’m not quite sure why but they kept asking me if I liked it. They don’t normally ask my opinion but they seemed very keen to do so yesterday, which was nice of them.
Thinking about it, I appear to be spending a lot more time at pre-school nowadays. I always seem to be going. I don’t really have a good concept of time but I’m sure that I’m attending far more often than before.
I think this may be part of a larger conspiracy by my parents to get rid of me. The Head Teacher of the school yesterday described how the older kids go away for a week’s outward bound course. I overheard Dad whispering to Mum that he couldn’t wait and that it was only six years away. He was quite excited.
In the afternoon, as it was raining, we visited an indoor play area and met up with Emily.
I was running around so much that I became very, very sweaty. So sweaty in fact that Mum decided to swap my tracksuit trousers for a spare pair of Emily’s pink shorts.
At that precise moment, any remaining street credibility that I may have had disappeared along with my tracksuit into my Mum’s bag. What was she thinking? It was social suicide.
To compensate, I had to whack anyone who gave me a second look. But as these numbered quite a few, it took up all my time.
When I got home, I wandered into Dad’s office hoping for a sympathetic ear only to find that he’s started a daily countdown chart to the outward bound course. It’s set to 2190.
Matthew.
Related Posts: Moving Away
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Composition
Yesterday’s corner time: 2 Minutes.
I’m not quite sure of the exact timeline but I think it goes something like this:
First there came Baby Mozart. Then there was Big Mozart. Sometime after that came a couple of chaps called Lennon and McCartney. They were in the Beatles. I like Beatles but I prefer spiders.
Anyway, I digress. I’m not quite sure what that means but Dad says I do it a lot. I think I might be doing it again right now. I just can’t help myself. Any available opportunity and off I go, digressing.
Anyway, before I do it again, the Beatles wrote some good songs as did Baby Mozart. Big Mozart was alright but not really my cup of tea.
Well, I’ve now followed in their footsteps and penned my first composition. I’m quite proud of it and I don’t think I’d be exaggerating too much if I referred to it as a masterpiece.
Admittedly, some of the imagery could be considered to be basic and I’ve repeated some of the verses but all in all, I think it demonstrates my genius.
Here it is:
Custard, Custard, Custard, Custard – I love Custard
Custard, Custard, Custard, Custard – I love Custard
Hello, Hello, Jelly, Jelly, Jelly
Repeat 30 Times.
Custard is a difficult word to rhyme but fortunately, I discovered that it rhymes very well with itself.
My song received its first airing at dinner last night. By the end of the song, Dad had covered his ears and was screaming “No More, No more”. I misheard him and thought he had said “Encore, Encore.”
Becca seemed to enjoy it although that may have had something to do with the bowl of custard on her head.
Matthew.
Related Posts: Nectar
I’m not quite sure of the exact timeline but I think it goes something like this:
First there came Baby Mozart. Then there was Big Mozart. Sometime after that came a couple of chaps called Lennon and McCartney. They were in the Beatles. I like Beatles but I prefer spiders.
Anyway, I digress. I’m not quite sure what that means but Dad says I do it a lot. I think I might be doing it again right now. I just can’t help myself. Any available opportunity and off I go, digressing.
Anyway, before I do it again, the Beatles wrote some good songs as did Baby Mozart. Big Mozart was alright but not really my cup of tea.
Well, I’ve now followed in their footsteps and penned my first composition. I’m quite proud of it and I don’t think I’d be exaggerating too much if I referred to it as a masterpiece.
Admittedly, some of the imagery could be considered to be basic and I’ve repeated some of the verses but all in all, I think it demonstrates my genius.
Here it is:
Custard, Custard, Custard, Custard – I love Custard
Custard, Custard, Custard, Custard – I love Custard
Hello, Hello, Jelly, Jelly, Jelly
Repeat 30 Times.
Custard is a difficult word to rhyme but fortunately, I discovered that it rhymes very well with itself.
My song received its first airing at dinner last night. By the end of the song, Dad had covered his ears and was screaming “No More, No more”. I misheard him and thought he had said “Encore, Encore.”
Becca seemed to enjoy it although that may have had something to do with the bowl of custard on her head.
Matthew.
Related Posts: Nectar
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