There is an interloper in my house. It smells funny, makes odd noises and seems to be demanding all of the attention of my formerly doting parents.
I tried demonstrating my displeasure by disappearing for four days (well I snuck in at night to eat - I'm not about to go without food - or heaven forbid try to catch my own dinner)- but when I finally came home the creature was still in residence.
I suppose it's going to be one of those things that I just have to get used to - like the fluffy thing that appeared three years ago - I moved out for a good month that time, but alas she's still here and I will admit she's grown on me.
In an attempt to garner some attention I've taken to trying to sleep in what is known as "the cot" which is in what was my old bedroom and is now referred to as "the nursery". It seems to belong to the interloper - although appears not to be in use currently. It's been in there for months - but I've only just noticed how comfortable it is. Anyway - everytime I get myself settled mummy comes in and turfs me out. She hasn't shouted yet - I think she's worried about upsetting my equilibrium - you see I'm a sensitive soul.
Mrs Jones is a far from yummy mummy with a penchant for M&S fudge bars and a mojito on a Friday night. She became Mrs Jones in 2009 and a mummy in 2010. In 2011 she is attempting to remember her own name and not put washing powder in the dishwasher....