Ruth bought me a fluffy toy dog. I picked it out myself from the display. It is very cute. I gave it so many kisses that by the time we got to the checkout his little nose was quite damp!
In keeping with Jack's rule about listening to the toy to see what name it wants ('toys tell you what their name is', that's what he told dad), my dog is called 'glug glug'. OK, it's not a traditional name, but I only have three words, 'hat', 'mum' and 'dad'. And all three of those would be a bit confusing to name my dog, so seeing I've been talking like a Klingon, and 'glug glug' being my favourite phrase, that's the name of my dog.
We went out to the surf club for dinner, and I got a little rowdy while we were waiting to order. Dad got a bit panicky, thinking all the other patrons would get peeved with us, so while we waited for our main meals, mum ordered a plate of chips for me. They arrived in record time and I hoed into them. It stopped my whinging and set dad's mind at ease...
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