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38 MAMMA, HOLIDAY & POO DISPOSAL

9th July 2017

 

GEORGE AGED 1 YEAR OLD

 

MAMMA,HOLIDAYS & POO DISPOSAL

 

Hi George here. Welcome to my world, won’t you come on in.

 

I just love life, don’t you? There is always something going on, always something new to investigate and get stuck into. There is always someone new to get to know. Everyday there is some new mischief to discover.

 

I’ve not bothered doing much walking any more since last week. Well, I’ve achieved that now. I can’t stand still (get it can’t stand still, when I’ve just learnt to walk) got to move on to the next thing.

 

Mamma had to go to hospital with a cough on Friday. A bit of unfairness crept into that situation. We went to the hospital on Saturday to see her. I was so excited. I had heard that hospitals are full of things with cables attached and buttons and knobs and electrical plugs. I was going to have the time of my life, turning them on and off and biting cables and investigating in general. Even the beds have cables and remote controls. Can you imagine that?

 

But once we got to the hospital Sister Freya and Mum went in to see her and I was left outside in the buggy with Grandad Robinson. No, no, Grandad Robinson was not in the buggy, just me, he was pushing it, round and round the hospital grounds like a teddy bear.

 

I just do not know why I was banned. And why was Grandad Robinson too? I am quite sure an afternoon of exploring the equipment inside the hospital would have given me a life and death experience. But someone took the decision to curtail my intellectual development.

 

An afternoon walk with Grandad around the Nottingham City Hospital grounds is not the most stimulating or inspirational thing to do in life. Infact it’s damn right dull. So I went to sleep. Slept for the whole one and a half hours. If I have to take on the huge, sole responsibility of waking the whole family at 5.00am every morning I do need to catch a nap at sometime.

 

When Mum came out of the hospital she took me Sister Freya and Grandad to Cousin Rory’s house and I never did get into that hospital.

 

The next day Sunday me and Sister Freya were going on holiday with Grandad and Nanny Reed. I knew we were going on holiday because we were going to Skegness. Skegness is the seaside. If you visit a seaside you must be on holiday, with beach, donkeys and sea. In my one short year of life I have come to realise that going on holiday is the best thing in world and life ever… You cannot beat holidays!!!

 

As I am one year old I now know what the 10 Best Things In Life and The World Ever… are:

                1.             Holidays

                2.             Doing a huge pooh

                3.             Eating (Eating anything)

                4.             Obtaining a Smartphone

                5.             Sleeping

                6.             Waking everyone at 5.00am

                7.             Watching TV

                8.             TV remote controls

                9.             Some folk – not all

                10.          LIFE!

 

I think I got the holiday bit wrong, though. We saw my Great Aunt and Great Uncle. I could see why they were called “Great”. Where they live there are millions of caravans. Caravans are tiny homes on wheels. The best homes in the world ever. The place is so exciting. Sister Freya even learned to ride a bike there. Riding a bike is so easy. Why don’t they let me have a go? But they stop me every time. I am totally suppressed by my parents.

 

But we didn’t have a holiday because we did not see a beach with sand or any sea or not even one donkey.

 

I was so disappointed . I have had swimming lessons and I can now swim, well splash about in the water,  and I was looking forward to swimming in the sea. I can’t swim in the deep end of the sea but I sure can in the shallow end, if I get a chance.

 

Changing the subject completely Grandad says parents have raised a stink over "ridiculous" plans by some councils in England and Wales to charge them to take away nappies on top of their household waste.

Dorset Council, for example, recently introduced a £13 charge for an annual supply of nappy sacks, which are available for children up to age three. The reason is that disposable nappies are filling up our landfill sites at a staggering rate of 3 billion a year, or 8 million a day.

 

Apparently, Grandad says from me being born on 8th May 2016 until I am potty trained 8th November 2018 I will have used 6,553 nappies  @ 14.8p per nappy that is a cost of  £969.84. Approximately 130 black bin liners full to dispose of.

 

Apparently my nappies for a year weigh 312KG thats 49 Stone or the weight of 4 average men.

 

Some guess that it takes more than 500 years before nappies begin to break down. I see that as a positive. That’s me leaving a legacy for the world. A small momentum, just a little bit of me.

 

I am just one of an estimated 321 million babies aged under two-and-a-half in the world, today. If each of us wore disposable nappies, assuming an average of 4.2 daily nappy changes, 6,000 tonnes of nappies would be thrown away everyday. But the bulk of babies in India, China and the third world do not wear disposable nappies, which eliminates a lot of the problem.

 

More than half a million tonnes of waste from disposable nappies is generated in Britain every year going into landfill or incineration. But now a Canadian company Knowaste is set to recycle 36,000 tonnes of the disposable nappy waste at the first facility of its kind in the UK. It can then be used for making new products, such as roof tiles or plastic components and fibre-based construction and commercial tubes. Some pooey nappy will be turned into a plastic drinking cup for me or they’ll build me a house with them or even put a roof of pooey nappies over my head.

 

All this poo talk has made me want one, so I’m off.

 

But just one last thought…there are 4.3 births in the world every second.

 

Bye Bye George (8.6 more babies have been born)

 

 

 

 

 

 

©2017 www.jeanniejeanniejeannie.co.uk – Phil Robinson

When I was a lad at school around 13 years old, our Maths teacher used to call me Wol. At the end of the year as we were moving up a class I plucked up courage to ask why he called me Wol. He told meit was thename of the deslexic owl in Winnie the Pooh. With my Harry Potter glasses he said I looked like the Wise Old Owl in the Winnie the Pooh stories.

 

Being the vain person I am I took it as a compliment

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