The Babysitter

A strange thing happened when I returned from the pub.

I took Caligula’s breakfast in to him and he didn’t eat her. He stared at her and she at him for a while. Then she smiled.

Then he ran at her and I thought ‘I should have worn the splashproof trousers’ but he didn’t bite at all.

He.. hugged her. My own son did that! Evidently my parenting skills are sadly lacking. Not one bite did he take, not even for a taste. I was, it goes without saying, entirely nonplussed by this turn of events. I just hope he’s not going to grow up strange.

It seems Caligula will have to have breakfast from the freezer. Still it’s not all bad news. I have a babysitter I won’t have to peel off the walls on my return home in future and she’ll soon learn to make a decent cup of tea. Left out the kitten blood on her first attempt. I like a bit of cuteness in my tea and there’s nothing more cute than kitten blood.

It’s not like me to ask baby food to introduce itself but I did get a name. Elizabeth. Elizabeth Blackthorn.

The surname sounds familiar somehow.

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