Mark the 21st of June, 2007. Mark it and spare a little sympathy for a poor ol' Sue whose baby is definitely turning his back on his babyhood.
That morning, The Bhablet spoke. When V was fixing him up post-bath, he suddenly looked up at him and said, very clearly, "Baba".
Now I'm sure I need not describe what that did to V or how much naughtiness The Bhablet got away with all that day.
Mind you, now you're not to think that I'm jealous or anything, because really, I'm not. Besides, when The Bhablet wants me (or Ma-like services), he calls out "Emm" so I have a name too, in his vocabulary. What I don't have is a wee baby. I can't believe I was waiting for him to grow up. How dumb was I?
I'm not back. Not at all. And if you are V, reading this, then you should know that I'm not even here. I'm in bed right now resting my wrists. Not that they need it, because I don't strain them. And I typed this post with my elbows. Father-mother-god-promise.
Henceforth, The Bhablet will be spelling his name with only one 'e'. That is not protesting a certain person who ought to be forced to write out 500 times that 'movie' is spelt with only one 'e', not matter what an illiterate numerologist says. The Bhablet has changed his spelling because by now he figures that people know how to pronounce his name, and besides, on the car sticker we just put up, V forgot the 'e'.