The Other Nappies of Time

3 years ago today, Bensmum suggested I start a blog, and it's been a stellar burst of pretentious poetry and prose ever since, no doubt.

But as she started a blog for Ben pretty well from his birth, I arrived very late on the scene in comparison. So I wondered what it would be like had I travelled down the other trouserleg (nappy) of time and started one from my own birth, just a couple of weeks before him. Here are a few choice excerpts from my could-have-been Birth Blog.

Day 26. I have been telling them I need a burp as loudly as I can for 3 hours now and I can no longer detect them in this room. Gravity on this planet is too strong for me to even stand up, let alone chase them.

Day 75. Have mastered the art of saving a crap for when they have just changed my nappy. They always make funny noises when I do that. Coincidentally, I cannot stop dribbling. They say I may have to be returned to factory settings.

Day 162. The mush that is my food has started to get bits of red pepper in. Yum! Later, I shall tell them that I hate it. I have also tried something called Lego. It is nobbly and tasteless and I shall shun it forever.

Day 193. I have said my first official word, by accident. I was just standing there centre stage, vocalizing, the way you do, and I said "Yabba Yabba ana yaya eweemeemee ororo titipoopeear rer rer rer canabolo eeepee nigger!" This got a big laugh.

Day 194. Today I shall try very hard to say anything other than the word "Mab".

Week 85. My favourite word is "Barbats" and I say it all the time while rocking.

Week 86. My favourite word is "Barbat-she". I say it frequently with the accent on the second syllable, and the dribble on the third syllable.

Week 87. My favourite word is Ba-barbat-she" and it is freaking them out, for they cannot decipher the code, and it is not Fermat's last theorem.
Week 88. My favourite song is Bar-bar BAT sheep and now we all sing it. My favourite thing is where he is changing my nappy and he makes telephone ringing noises and then he indignantly answers my foot, and says there's nobody there. I laugh so much I get hiccups. Like many boys, I was late ditching the nappy forever. But that gave me access to the one in-built toy all chaps have .....

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Today Pompey play Morecambe, a sleepy seaside resort up north somewhere, which just so happens to be the town of origin of JoniBobsDad, and he still supports their team. Yesterday at cricket, we discovered that of the 4 (count them, 4) tickets sold, he had bought 3 of them, one each for him, Johnny and Bobert. The other one went to some bloke in a wheelchair. This was so funny it actually made the national newspapers. We thought we ought to go along as well, swell the ranks a little and abuse the northern monkeys but were unable to buy tickets at the away end, for police reasons. So we got 2 in the south stand, near Elizabeth.
The match was really funny, we got 3 goals and they had a player sent off and we all laughed. At half time I lent Beth Blind Uncle Len's binoculars and we could see the JBs sitting disconsolately in the middle of an empty stand with about 40 northerners for company. The second half was more boring and I ended up standing on my chair crooning like a Mogwai.
Then Beth invited us to a post-match Puddle-Party so we drove there. It is not far but we had to carry so much beer that we would never have made it.
We spent a lot of time watching Nanny McPooshooter and similar, picked at our food and raced round in circles. I think I've left my coat at the cricket club.