No gas

Cooking gas that is. There's plenty of gas coming from Mark and me one way or the other, but if they know a way of harnessing that, mummy and daddy are keeping it to themselves. Mummy wasn't very happy today because our maid Ibia didn't tell her that the gas had run out. By the time mummy found out, it was too late to get a new bottle and so we had nothing to cook on for the rest of the day.

In the afternoon we drove to daddy's office so that he could look for some furniture for my bedroom. We went to Home Store, or Home Shop or something like that, but they didn't have anything suitable and so we came home. Because we had no gas, mummy and daddy had to order food from outside and it took ages to turn up. I was alright because Abbi Ibia had somehow managed to prepare me something in the microwave which she shoved into my mouth in little pieces as I was watching TV.

I don't know what it is about mealtimes but food just doesn't seem to taste the same if it's not accompanied by a turned-on television. Even though I watch the same DVDs over and over and over again, I never get bored of them and I just sit there chewing while Ibia pops little balls of rice into my mouth. It must be a bit like watching a bird feed its young.

Mark hasn't discovered TV yet. He just sits strapped in his little baby seat and our other maid - Abbi Malme - does the same for him. Mummy says he's a pretty good eater but then I expect I was when I was strapped to a chair and couldn't move anywhere. These days I know better and if I don't like something I won't eat it, no matter what mummy tries to do to make me. Occasionally she gets really mad and threatens to throw me out of the house. That's when I get scared and sit down, but apart from that I do exactly as I please.

I hope daddy's going to get me some new DVDs soon. A lot of the ones we have get stuck and freeze on a particular frame. Daddy says it's because I scrape them across the floor, or put sticky fingers on them, or scratch them just by being careless. Well what does he expect for goodness sake, I'm three years old! Three year olds do things like that daddy. Just think yourself lucky that it's Tom and Jerry and Barney and Ethelbert that are getting the treatment and not one of your Hundred and One Boring Minutes on DVD volume 2764, DVD. I'll grow out of this phase in a few years, just as Mark is entering it.