What is it with babies and animals – and how come a toy penguin is now in charge?
At some point in the past two weeks, I realised I’ve been usurped. An interloper has entered my house and taken over my son’s affections. His name is Pingie. He is a small penguin who says about eight sentences when you push his face. For this have I been forsaken. I am now a distraction from time he could be spending with Pingie who, I just have to accept, is now his true father.
I now see I should have tried harder at being a small plastic bird, who constantly tells him I’m black and white, or sings about my love of swimming. Where once he laughed every time I entered a room or stroked his chubby cheek, I am now a distraction from the true love of his life. Pingie, I just have to accept, is his new dad.
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