Dear Mummy,
I love you.
But. This shit has gotta stop.
I’m not a baby anymore. I’m two now. That makes me nearly a grown up. And you nearly dead.
And you need to find a way to deal with that. Before you’re too old to fetch my yoghurt and shit.
The thing is… I can do stuff for myself now. I don’t really need you (except for yoghurt related activity but we’ll touch on that another time…)
Stop holding my hand on the way into nursery – YOU’RE ONLY EMBARASSING YOURSELF. Also – pavements are for the weak. I need to express myself in the middle of the road… Everyone knows that’s where the best puddles are. (Everyone who’s not nearly dead anyway…) And how many times do I have to tell you I can put my shoes on myself? Albeit only onto my left hand, but THAT’S THE WAY I LIKE IT. OK.
NAPPIES. ARE. FOR. BABIES. I shan’t be needing mine anymore thank you. And while we’re at it; someone has pissed on the floor and taken a shit on the sofa. Best clean it up before one of the cats eats it.
Crayons DO NOT allow me to fully release my creative potential… I’ve moved on. I’m all about felt tips now. And I mean the proper non-washable ones lady. Jeeeeeez. And I can administer my own Calpol now. So cut the fricking umbilicabickable cord will you.
We’ve spoken about this on multiple previous occasions, and I’ve provided you with a comprehensive list of my preferred dietary needs (Pizza, Yoghurt and Pizza-Yoghurt.) YET… you still insist on smothering all manner of things in cheese thinking this will somehow ‘fool me’ into eating it… I’m not a twat mother. I can smell the secret peas in my lasagne from the living room you treasonous skank.
On a side note – Seriously, it’s February tomorrow and the paddling pool is still in the garden. I think you have issues of the head.
I’m writing to let you know it’s time I moved on. Made my own way. Found myself…
I’ve decided to take my chances in a one-toddler-jazz-xylophone-band and travel the lands performing at soft play venues…
Don’t try to follow me. I’ll have you stabbed.
Yours,
WallyBubba xx
P.s. I have the shoes. And the felt tips. And a calpol syringe.
You've got to love the independent stage…..and then 10 years later they know everything, but are capable of nothing! 😀
ReplyHa 😉 well at least there's that to look forward to then… *sobs* lol xx
ReplyThis is hilarious! We have the same issues & tricks (the cheese camouflage that doesn't work any more)! Regards, a fellow toddler-mum 🙂
ReplyYou have my deepest condolences and gin-pathy (gin and empathy together) lol xx
ReplyHa – F can sniff out peas a mile off too. I've heard them around the dinner table at pre-school chanting 'WE HATE PEAS!'. Its a conspiracy theory.
ReplyYeah. The pre-schooler rumour mill is NO JOKE… 😉 ha! Xx
ReplyOh yeah doing everything for themselves! I know this well. My wee man is extra stubborn as well I'm sure. I have learnt quickly to choose my battles well…there are just some you will NEVER win!
Reply…which is why they invented gin no doubt 😉
ReplyOh, this is just brilliant. I can't stop laughing!
Reply*sniggers* thank you xxx
ReplyJust. Hilarious.
ReplyGet a move on with the book, lovely. I can' wait!!!
T xXx
Ha! Cheers hunny :)) I really do need to pull my finger out! Lol xx
ReplyHa ha ha I'm loving the dietary preferences of wally bubba – reckon my 3 reprobates would happily join her for that kind of nosh 🙂
ReplyOh yes, go off breif and you'll likely lose an eye!
ReplyTreasonous skank are my favourite 2 words of the day.
ReplyAmy @2boys1mum xxx
Pahahaha x oh me too… Lol xx
ReplyVery, very funny. Huge amounts of LOL's. They're not daft are they? :o).
ReplyNo. They are smarter than they look… #dammit lol xx
ReplyOh my goodness that has me crying with laughter, and fear as I can see a lot of this in G already, fast approaching two. Fabulous post though #PoCoLo x
Replyhehehe x thank you :))) x
ReplyHehe hysterical!
ReplyCheers 😉 xxxx
Replyoh you make owning a toddler sound soooooo appealing haha!
ReplyHa 😉 it's only fair to warn others… Lol xx
ReplyHahaha this is so our house. Complete with shouts of "No!! My do it my do it!" Then half an hour later, "will you help me mummy?"
Replyhahahaha x oh yes, the shameful asks for help after hours of protest… *rolls eyes* lol xx
ReplySitting giggling whilst trying to hide the kindle from "the son"
ReplyHilarious! 🙂
teehee :))) x thank you for reading xxx
ReplyHaha this made me laugh – they're hilarious with the new found independence and "no Mummy I do it". POD has just learnt to put her own coat on at pre-school. She lies it on the floor, puts her arms in and flips it over her head! Genius 🙂
ReplyReckon I'm gonna start putting my coat on that way too… Sounds way more fun! Lol xx
ReplyLMAO and was I the only one that read that to the music from Stan?
ReplyPahahaha 😉 may have to add that as a theme song… lol xx
ReplyIt's all funny, but the bit that cracked me up most was the bit about the paddling pool. We don't have that at all. But only because the wind blew it next door 😉
ReplyPahahaha *checks through window to see if paddling pool is still actually in situ…* lol :))) x #funee
ReplyAbsolutely brilliant! I wonder how many other kids would want to write something like this to their Mums?! Thanks for linking to PoCoLo x
Replyheehee xx thank you xx
ReplyLucas says – I read this last week #pocolo and I've just shown Grace and we've both had a giggle together. Wallybubba is sooooo cool and she is certainly one of our favourite people #funee
ReplyHeehee x WallyBubba returns the compliment! Lol xxx
ReplyJust discovered you and I think I love you 😀 Totally with you on the paddling pool front, ours has been out there, unwashed, untouched, unloved, for two years. I feel a bit sorry for it (but not enough to actually clean it) and I think that’s why I can’t throw it away. Nevermind, Lidl are selling them next week so I’ll just buy another one 😉 x
Replyheehee xx thanks lovely xx
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