My niece has finally arrived this morning after my sister seemingly got her council tax worth out of Manchester Health Authority.
Why she didn’t want me ringside throughout, fighting over the entenox and diamorphine whilst wearing a shirt that said “I’m Blogging All Of This” and Twitpic’ing the entire proceedings is a mystery to me…
The Anti-Kit is here!
I’ll let the legendary Jenny Lawson fill my sis and bro-in-law in with some excellent parenting tips for Renesmee Kitka GaGa the 1st, just to set them off on the magical mystery voyage that is….the adventure of parenthood.
I have my own advice of course, but that’s just for their ears and not to be broadcast over the Information Superhighway because a) it’s a private family affair & I don’t want any biters and copyers stealing my moves. b) I don’t want a visit from the Social Services and c) I can’t think of anything deep, sincere and meaningful enough right now because I’m too thrilled at being an Aunt. The Anti-Kit. I need a Tee shirt or a keychain something made with that shit on the front. (cue Carmina Baruna music from the Old Spice advert)
I did pass on some parenting advice to the JC over the christmas holidays, fully fuelled on Malbec at about 1am on Boxing Day but fortunately for all concerned, neither he nor I can remember what it was I said.
Probably just as well…
In the meantime here’s a picture of my own kids inside a dog cage.
(Before you report me – the cage is for Pepper the pegleg to recoup in when she gets back from the vets and the kids wanted to test it out and yes I have since released them.)
PS J& J, I am available to babysit, anytime… I await your eager call to take me up on the offer. Big, big, big love to you both and the Best of British Luck to the pair of you. (FYI, you might want to bring some of that diamorphine back home with you in case of emergencies – I’ll take 3 litres and a brace of entenox chasers).