She thinks it's funny to dress me in funny embroidered t-shirts with slogans that make people look at me funny and think I'm either cute or naughty, depending on what she thinks of my mood each day.



We had the family round last month for a party and my mum spent ages choosing between rompers and baby wear to dress me in. What is her obsession in having to match baby wear with the right bib? She knows I'm only going to puke on it after all.

So, there I am, introduced to the visitors as the kid in the embarrassing baby wear that has 'party pooper' emblazoned across the front. This is ruining my street credibility and I am so looking forward to the teenage payback that this woman is due!

She who must be obeyed has found a baby wear internet site that allows her to buy me an array of embarrassing clothing, from rompers to bibs, with anything she likes embroidered across them. So, it's rusk in the keyboard later then? That should hold her off for a while.

My mother thinks I'm daft, that I don't know what these baby wear slogans say because I can't read yet but she's the daft one. Everybody that sees me, reads it out, and reacts! This is the bit I hate. I'm a boy, yet my mother insists on putting me in a romper that says 'I have a cute smile and I'm not afraid to use it'. How does this help me at nursery when I'm taking toys off of other kids and trying to look hard?

The keyboard is in for repair - ha! I think I have foiled her little plan for making me look ridiculous. Not for long - she goes round to use grandma's computer. Placing another order for strange baby wear, my mother disappears into the kitchen to gossip with grandma, leaving me and the computer all alone.

I might not be able to read but I do have some fashion sense, and a sense of humour, and with a few clicks, the order is changed. If my mother took more of an interest in what I get up to at nursery she would know I can use a computer now. Bibs and baby wear ordered to MY taste, thank you very much.

When the order arrives, my mother looks a little puzzled. Not nearly as puzzled as she looks when she realises that, yes, I am capable of dressing myself when I want to. I pull out the top t-shirt and put it on. As she reads the 'Warning - Projectile Vomiting In Progress', I proceed to carry this out all over the lounge carpet. It's not my fault, I'm just a baby, she can't say she wasn't warned!

Strangely enough, I'm feeling better by lunch time and the nearest available bib is one that states 'I don't want much, just my own way' and would you believe it, I get fruit mush for dinner as opposed to the normal broccoli offering! These things work well!

My new prospective step-father is visiting this afternoon. Boy, do I have a treat in store for him. My 'I only cry when ugly people hold me' is the baby wear of my choice to greet him in, even if my mother is scowling at me. I put on my sweetest smile, what can he say?

The 'Evil dictator' bib is, for some reason, making him look at me weird this afternoon and he cuts his visit short after my bedtime romper stating 'I must not sleep, I must not sleep, I must not sleep' comes out. I do believe that means I win.

My mother is not amused, just because her evening's entertainment has been cut short and she tells me off and sits me in the corner! This is so unfair! I sneak off to my room and put on my romper that says 'That's it, I'm calling Grandma'. My mother thinks this is cute and gives me a big hug. It would seem I am still her favourite boy after all.