Well, now I am six, at any rate. It's my birthday and I shall blog if I want to - today this blog is all MINE!
It's not been too bad a birthday: after breakfast I went back to bed and had a little lie-in, and then had a phone call from Stinky Boy. It sounded like him but when I sniffed and licked the phone it didn't smell or taste like him. And having happy birthday sung to you is all very well, but it's not the same as a proper present - after all, I shall only be six once, I shall never be six again, and I need proper presents to celebrate with. Then the Madwoman took me and Archie out for a birthday walk. We met a man staring up at the sky and scratching his head. He told us he'd lost the moon. Yes, really. You couldn't make it up ... Then we got home and at last it was time for my presents. I got a snuggly girly pink and orange fleece for my bed to keep me warm now the nights are getting a bit colder (the Madwoman will insist on leaving a window open, so warm blankies are essential) and a pack of dried-ready-to-eat sausages (except I've only had one so far, and had to share it with Archie) and a stuffed squeaky vulture. Just what I always wanted.
At the moment I can smell chicken roasting in the oven, so it's cooled in time ready for my birthday dinner later. No doubt I'll be expected to share that with Archie too. There is also a chunk of liver bread waiting for the party games later on: the Madwoman has promised Spinny, Doggy Dominoes and poke the button. Off for a quick nap now, before more birthday partying!