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LES MISERABLES 3rd December 2016

3rd December 2016                                                         POST 131

 

BABY (I WAS BORN WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE) GEORGE'S BLOG

 

AGED 6 MONTHS

 

 

LES MISERABLES

 

Welcome to my world.

I never knew until this week that there is a word called “miserable”. I learnt all about it and began to understand it, but I kept on smiling. You’ve got to, you know.You see, life has served me a bit of a miserable week. I’m told some people are worse off than me. I’m not sure who though.

You see, the TV was still not working properly, until Tuesday. No BBC 1 or 2, ITV or Channel 4 or 5. Not that there is much on them. Not that I know that, I do not have any previous knowledge to compare. Mum, dad, Nanny, grandad, mamma and grandad all tell me. Sister Freya doesn’t seem to care.

So dad was big time miserable, but you can’t blame him. As I have looked at it over my first six months of life, you can’t blame him. If it weren’t for the telly what’s dad got in life?

Mum was off out, again, on Saturday. On a bus trip to London to see something miserable called “Les Miserables”. That is French for The Miserables. At first I thought it was a comedy but no, I think it was her way of keeping up with dad. Mum and dad tend to be as one. She couldn’t get as miserable as dad because there was no TV, so she had to go to London to see something to make her miserable. And it worked!

I don’t know much about shows and the West End and Broadway, yet. I’ve not even been to one. Grandad says they are loads of fun with lots of music and laughter, but does “Les Miserables” sound loads of fun and lots of laughter. I don’t think so.

On the same day I had a stinking cold. A new experience I could have managed without, but I suppose I had to get one sooner or later. A bug, it was. I started with it Thursday. I must have caught it from the TV. Dad said that had a bug which had caused it not to work.

The problem was it attacked all that is a pleasure to me. I couldn’t sleep properly. I didn’t fancy my food. I was expecting to go off to a shadow of my former self. The only pleasure I had left was pooing.

We took sister Freya swimming and dropped her off at Grandad and Nanny’s. I learned she was staying with them to go to Skegness to see Auntie Caroline. So, why not me?

Me and dad went home by ourselves and spent the day being “Les Miserables” together. (That is French for “The Miserables”).

But I don’t like being “Les Miserables” (That is French for “The Miserables”). Infact, I hate it. Of all my experiences in life to date being miserable is the very worst, ever.

But then on Monday, mamma and grandad came. They do make me smile. You ain’t seen “Les Miserables” (That is French for “The Miserables”) until you’ve seen them and that made me feel better. I realised then, there are people a lot more worse off than me, in the world.

But by Tuesday the TV was mended, I was recovering from my cold, it left me with an irritating cough. Mum was about recovered from “Les Miserables” (That is French for “The Miserables”).

I love this interesting thing called life. It always has something different to offer up.

 

 

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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