On the new rules of this blog
Shit, as they say, has happened, and the world must therefore change.
A fundamental change, as it happens, that will alter the very way I approach this site.
The rules of this blog have now changed, for the fragrant Mrs Duck (who I love dearly) has a brand new laptop and wireless internet connection. It is pink. The wireless is, I gather, not pink.
This means that she now has the time and - God lover her - the means, as my company secretary and all-round protector of my fragile mind, to subject these pages to the kind of rigorous quality control they have lacked for the last five-and-a-half years
There are to be new rules. Tough new rules to which I have gladly agreed, involving the painting of the summer house, and the addition of new shelves in the bedroom.
So - the new rules:
* Anything that happened before today is completely and utterly untrue
* Especially the bit about doneing a poo in the shed
* Actually, anything to do with poo. Or 'egg', which is, face it, just poo in disguise
* Anything I mentioned before today reflecting badly on the fragrant Mrs Duck (who I love dearly) is completely and utterly untrue, or if it were - by million-to-one chance - true, I have been chastised greatly and made to live in the shed for a week
* Rabbits are not, never were, and never will be bummy
* Last weekend was entirely my fault, especially the bit where the dog wiped her bottom on the door mat
* From this day forward, this site will contain nothing but educational, mature and sensible posts about everyday family life in 21st century Britain
Tomorrow's tale of Mirth and Woe, under this newly-sensible regime change will be a sensible little number entitled The Place Where You Did A Turd
So mote it be.
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