Mum's away so the boys will play!!

It’s GREAT when mum goes back to the UK and it’s just me and Uncle Hugh. We hang out on the sofas watching daytime TV, which mum calls ‘garbage’ and Uncle Hugh gives me some of his beer and his Haribo Jellies, which are sometimes a bit sour and make my mouth water and my nose wrinkle – but I like them because I’m not supposed to have them. Uncle Hugh also eats his food in front of the TV when mum isn’t here and he throws food to me and lets me lick his plate. It’s brilliant. He’ll probably take me up in his flying car too. We do lots of things we’re not supposed to when mum’s away.

On UK TV in the daytime, there’s sometimes a man who I think is called Kylie and he talks to other men and women who usually have marks on their bodies and metal bits sticking out of parts of their faces. The other men and women sometimes shout and scream at each other – lots. Uncle Hugh calls them 'lowlife' – perhaps they live in tunnels. Sometimes these lowlife people fight. And some women cry when Kylie talks to them and sometimes Kylie gets mad. I think Kylie is a nasty man.

Also on UK TV in the daytime, there is another programme where people look for really old stuff in their cellars and their attics and sometimes the really old stuff is a bit broken but STILL they try to sell it, and do you know what? Sometimes people buy the stuff that is really old and they pay lots of plastic for it even though you can get the same things brand new in the shops. I mean, why pay heaps of plastic for an old cup and saucer, or an old plate, or an old table, when you can buy a brand new one for less? Humans intrigue me, they’re weird.

Before mum left in her flying bus she was in a tizzy again because the markets are 'fooked' (her words) again, apparently. The problems weren’t all to do with the very short people who were selling things after all. Mum’s back on Sunday and I hope she’s in a better mood than she was when she left. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mum. But sometimes it’s good fun to chill out with Uncle Hugh.

Uncle Hugh has a strange ritual - about two hours before mum gets back his alarm goes on his mobile and he gets all frantic and starts clearing the surfaces in the kitchen and putting things back in cupboards. He puts all the dirty plates and stuff in the dishwasher - the ones that he's been growing mould on. Then he moves all the tissues that I've ripped up and left in my basket, then he goes round the house with a bag into which he throws all the empty beer cans, wine bottles and empty Haribo packets. Then he takes that bag, along with all the black bags that have been piling up outside the kitchen door - the ones he's placed there for the mice and the ants to play with - and he takes them to the communal bins (where me and mum normally go each day). Then he sucks the floor with the Dyson thingy. He ends up looking all flustered and red faced. Then mum gets back and touches his cheek with her lips and says "you've kept it nice".