From:  Me
To:  My fans
Re:  Me (of course.  What else would we want to talk about?)fficeffice" />

Memo:

Dear Fans,

It saddens me to have to bring to your attention the marked downturn in both the quality and quantity of your toadying of late.  Seven comments for this morning's post?  Six comments for yesterday's post?  You really ought to be ashamed of yourselves.  It makes me wonder why I even bother.

Let me first take this opportunity to address the backward belief that some of you insist on holding regarding some mythical world that doesn't concern pregnancy and puppies.  There are those of you who believe me to be blinkered, and unwilling to admit the existence of such a world - well I can assure you that this fantasy world does not exist.  It is propaganda fed to you by people who don't write my blog.

Now there are those among you - naysayers and doubters - who mutter in darkened corners about the infrequency of my posts; the fact that I rarely respond to comments; my low comment rate on your own blogs.  Let me remind you that this memo isn't about you, it's about me. 

And if my posts are short and devoid of effort, subject matter, wit and originality?  If they are the dashed off scribblings of someone who these days puts more effort and concentration into getting out of a chair than posting a blog?  If these foul and scurrilous rumours are true?  Then I ask you - who's fault is that?  It clearly can't be my fault, because this is my blog.  And that only leaves one other suspect, dear reader.

I want to end by assuring you that it is only you I'm thinking of.  After all, it's not as if I need you to validate me or anything. 

Warmest regards,

Norah.

I have just listed something on Ebay!!!

I am GENIUS incarnate! 

WOOOO!

It only took me ALL MORNING.

Now I have to list a few other things.  Luckily I've got ALL AFTERNOON to do it.

The devilishly devious plan is to sell all of our possessions on ebay and then casually mention to Mr Splog that I've made WODGE LOADS of filthy moolah and he'll be so bowled over by my financial GENIUS that he will completely fail to notice that I don't seem to have been earning a wage for quite some time.  And am not exactly chomping at the bit to get back in the work-a-day saddle.

But... but... I'm HOOOOOOJ.  Hoooooj people shouldn't have to go out to work, right?  And besides, the puppy would get lonely.

I am a HOOOOJ GENIUS.

Yus.

My body cream is mostly made of vanilla and cocoa and mashed bananas and stuff.  It's delicious.  It's so delicious that I have had to perfect the art of applying it while walking backwards around the bedroom and nimbly* leaping obstructions while I am followed by a gently wagging little puppy, intent on licking it off my knees.

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* Ha ha - like I can still do 'nimble'.

Right.  This sprog had better hope that it is born with the ability to walk.

I thought I'd buy a pushchair.  Or maybe, y'know, a pram. 

But sadly I don't have a doctorate in Understanding Baby Travel Systems, so I'm afraid it's going to have to walk home from the hospital.

Collapsible seats?  Fixed front wheels?  Integrated car seats?  So... if the car seat's integrated why do I need another seat?  Integrated bassinet?  That's like a pram, right? So I need that AND a bassinet?  Or can you push it about in the same thing it sleeps in?  I need a frame plus a seat plus a car seat PLUS a bassinet and that's easier?  That's an integrated travel system?  HOW is that integrated?  And don't even get me started on 'leg snugs' and parasols and 'parasol strollers' and... gahhh.

Yup.  Much easier to have a magic walking baby.

Oh god!  I can't move my legs.  Argh.  Ahhhhrgh.  How am I going to get downstairs to watch Trisha?  Oh god oh god.  And what's that smell?  Oh god!  I've lost control of my bowel.  Yeesh!  And I can't run away...

Oh no wait...

There's an elephantine puppy asleep on my legs.  And she's just farted.

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N.B.  If Mr Splog is reading this:
Of course the puppy wasn't on the bed darling.  I simply temporarily lost motor control of my lower body.  All better now.

Washing my hands. 

Have you any idea how often you have to wash your hands when your two main hobbies are eating and cleaning up puppy poo?  Lady Macbeth has nothing on me.

As a punishment for sneaking into my bedroom and having a jolly good game with my handbag, Splogdog is currently... err, well, she's sitting on (what's left of) my lap having a cuddle actually.  Harsh, I know but it's the only way she'll learn.

Every time she nearly dozes off, Splogsprog gives an almighty kick, causing Splogdog to jump up and stare in startled curiosity and amazement at at my belly.

I will never get tired of this game.

   
         Splogdog                                                       Splogsprog