Howdy y'all, Hallo, Moin Moin, y'allright me ducks?
I got out of bed to write this because I've decided that I can't blog just once a month anymore, there are things that need to be said right now.
Mum has started a terrible ritual of reading bedtime stories to me. I pretend to be really tired, I yawn, I make my eyes roll to the back of my head - still, the stories keep coming.
You may be thinking "ahhhhh, his Mum reads bedtime stories, how sweet" - nooooooooooo, believe me. I just got off the pain meds they've been feeding me every 4 hours after my tonsillectomy, I was looking for an uninterrupted night of peace and quiet and what happens? Mum spends 10 minutes putting images in my head that take me 4 hours to get out of there again.
Tonight it was the "Three Little Pigs" - 2 lazy pigs build houses that will not withstand a breeze, let alone an angry, hungry, hot-air blowing wolf. They laugh themselves stupid when they see their brother putting a whole lotta work into building a house of bricks. The 2 lazy brothers have a lot to smile about too because the 3rd brother does all the work and still lets the other 2 move in with him when the wolf destroys their houses. So why am I freaked out? First off, I've heard my Dad say often that our walls are made of paper - so how much huffing and puffing can this house take? Secondly, my Mum said that the Wolf is not real, just like Mickey and Donald, it's only a story in a book and I shouldn't be scared. Well I have met both Mickey and Donald in person, they are real so the Wolf must be real too.
And one last thing - in the story, the Wolf tried to come down the chimney when he couldn't blow the brick house down and yes, he may have burnt his posterior, but it got him in the house. We have a chimney, it's too warm for a fire, the Wolf is in the house somewhere, right?
3 years ago