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My son loves his cuddly toys, to an almost scary degree. He looks after them, makes them beds, creates costumes for them, and just generally anthropomorphizes* the hell out of them. His latest two acquisitions are a small bear – who’s called ‘Pinky’ – and a dolphin, that he’s dubbed ‘Sniffy’. It’s cold in the UK at the moment  (not the usual year-round-cold, it’s the December cold-in-your-bones kind of cold) so he decided that Pinky and Sniffy needed clothes.

He’s outsourced this to his mummy, my partner, as she’s a dab hand at most things craft-related. And she’s not missed a step with these two either but, and disagree with me if you will, I can’t help thinking they’re a bit sinister.

Prepare to make your own minds up, ladies and gentlemen, as I present to you:



‘GIVE ME THE MONEY!!!’ Its beady little eyes now seem to say. What was once a cute and unassuming bear is now filled with menace and the need to get as much money as possible, and make a swift getaway. ‘WE’RE NOT HERE FOR YOUR MONEY WE WANT THE BANK’S MONEY’ look at him, all he needs is a gun and he’s Robert DeNiro in Heat. It only took the merciless carving up of a poor innocent spare sock (we’ve got thousands of them) to turn this once peaceful bear into a potential one-bear-crimewave.

I don’t like the way he looks at me any more either…look at that odd tilt he’s got to his head, like he’s weighing me up. He didn’t have that tilt before I’m sure. I think he’s deciding whether to shoot me, or just knock me out, to make an example of me to the rest of the household.

Also note his right paw, the way it seems to be reaching behind him….I don’t want to know what for….

But if you thought that was bad you should see…



Alright, alright, you might argue that me bandying around the phrase ‘Burkini’ with regards to a cuddly dolphin could be seen as politically incorrect. I don’t care. Look at it – what else would you call it? Quite why a dolphin would wear a Burkini is wayyyyyy beyond me. Aren’t their sex organs on their rears? So just a small cap would suffice (I could be wrong here, I haven’t looked up dolphin sexual organs since……actually I have never looked up dolphin sexual organs**).

I must admit that when it comes to clothing this dolphin the form certainly dictates what shape the end product is going to be, but the colour reinforces my perception of it. Why couldn’t we have had a bright yellow outfit, maybe with a splash of red? Then I wouldn’t have looked at the dolphin’s outfit in this way. Or pink, pink would have been lovely…

I must say, as my partner is French – and we all know their views on Burkinis – I was quite surprised when this was the result of her busy-beavering with the scissors.

Still, it could have been worse, at least she didn’t make the dolphin look like the getaway driver for bank-robber-bear.

And what did she do next? Why she stored the mushrooms in the pot-pourri bowl in our house…..


See we’ve recently bought a new fridge freezer, due to our old one joining the white-goods death-cult that has overtaken our household in recent weeks. It’s like they’ve all heard I’ve got a job and have decided to top themselves.

So far the death-list includes: Washing machine (the first to die), fridge-freezer, Television*** and the vacuum is effectively on life-support, it’s held together by selotape – that’s not a joke, when I get a minute I’ll upload a photo of the poor little mite.

Well obviously these are things we can’t live without so they had to be replaced, but the fridge freezer, as it turns out, ended up being smaller than our old one. Hilariously so, to the degree that we began to compare it to a doll’s house accessory.

So why are the mushrooms on top of the pot-pourri? Because they wouldn’t fit in our new, snack-size, fridge-freezer, so logically they were placed in the coldest place in the kitchen. This, according to my partner, was on top of the pot-pourri bowl.

The spaghetti bolognaise, with mushrooms, that we consumed the next night had distinct hints of sage, garlic….and also the scents of cedar, jujube and rose…a memorable feast.

*oooh look at me and my big words

** I haven’t and will deny I have if you say I have

*** Funny story, well I think it’s funny anyway. I replaced the TV as it had started slowly dying, taking ages to power on etc. So I bought a 43 inch LED TV, that turned out to be faulty, so I returned it. Then when I got the new one I noticed 43 inch 4K tvs weren’t much more expensive, so I bought a 43 inch one of those. THEN I noticed that the price difference between the 43 inch 4K tvs and the 49 inch 4K tvs wasn’t that great so I upgraded it. I have kept the old TV as I believe it will still work, further down the line. But the remote control is missing. I now believe that it is stuck inside one of my numerous returned TV boxes in a warehouse somewhere in the UK. Oh and yes, my partner did go mental at me for swapping TVs four times.