What's new with Janey
15 February 2010


It’s serious business being three years old. I know this, because I wear big girl’s pants and mummy cheers when I go to the toilet myself, but she hates it when I show Mr Ali in the newspaper shop my big girl’s pants under my dress. There are rules to understand; big people make the rules, then break the rules. “Show Aunty Janey your big girl’s pants,” she says but, when I show them to other people, she screams: “Don’t, Julia!” So I guess only some people is allowed to see them. I wish she would make a list of these people so I can keep up.

“Be kind to the hamster” is another rule but, when I put lipstick on it, she shouts again. The hamster loves lipstick: it smiles at me when I do it and then it licks its lips which I know means it wants more. Cuddling the goldfish is out; it makes its eyes go funny and I suppose it doesn’t like cuddles.

There are three girls upstairs with the same faces that are brown. Mummy says I have never to say that as it makes me sound like the bee and peas. I don’t understand that as I don’t like bees or peas, but the girls all have the same brown faces. Why is that wrong to say?

Their mummy makes me laugh as she dresses up in a black mask and a cape. Mummy says I have to stop clapping my hands and laughing at her, but my mummy doesn’t dress up and hide her face; I wish she would do it, it looks like good fun and it means she wouldn’t take ages to fix her hair and stick the hot things in it which I am not allowed to touch.

The girls upstairs with the same brown faces don’t speak to me. I tried but they always look away when I ask them their names. One day I am going to show them my rabbit and show them how to put lipstick on the hamster. Yesterday their mummy poked her hand out of her cape and stroked my face and smiled with her eyes; she has lovely kind eyes, so I showed her my big girl’s pants and the mummy laughed and clapped her hands. She had a big laugh and my mummy and her giggled together. So I guess I can show my pants to people who wear capes.

My mummy tells me to eat vegetables but, when I eat the carrots out of the blue basket next to the fridge, she shouts at me: “They are dirty!” If carrots are dirty why does she feed me them? Eggs are funny. They are hard but go squishy when you throw them in the Wendy House. Mummy doesn’t like that.

I love my cat, but sometimes it goes funny. Mummy calls it ‘on heat’ but it isn’t hot; it’s just all bendy and makes a noise that sounds like it is singing with a deep voice. The cat sometimes tries to get me to put a crayon near its bottom, it shoves its back bottom near my hand and makes the bad singing and my mummy goes really high and screamy. Maybe the cat likes crayons under its tail? The cat spits at mummy when she pulls it away. “Don’t go near the cat’s bum, Julia!” mummy shouts. I don’t go near the cat’s bum; the cat puts its bum near me! Once the cat tried to get me to put the karaoke stick in its bum, but I knew that was bad and just whacked the bad cat with it. Mummy screamed again. I don’t know all the rules. I am only three.

Yesterday, I stared out of the window and saw the woman with the blue coat again. She walks about and I don’t think she knows where her house is, as she knocks on all the doors, but she does like to talk into the mouth of the post box. Maybe someone is in there? I saw Dr Who and he lives in a police box, so there might be a lady in the post box. The old lady with the blue coat watches me and waves at me. She wears big girl’s pants as she shows them off a lot. I like her. There is another lady who hugs her and takes her back to the right door where she really lives and then the wee woman in the blue coat cries and shouts: maybe its time for her bed and she doesn’t like nap time.

Mummy sometimes shuts the bedroom door and tells me to stay out as she is on the phone, but she isn’t talking she is smoking which is bad and makes you kill children with the smoke; I saw that on the telly. I sit behind the door and shout: “Smoking kills childrens!” and mummy tells me to go watch a cartoon. Tomorrow I am going to try to go out myself as I can reach the door and open it. Mummy says I must never go out alone, but I sometimes stand in the landing when nobody is looking. The lady with cape upstairs saw me doing it and shook a finger at me, clapped her hands and pointed at the door. She didn’t speak but she knows I was doing a bad thing; she made a clicky noise, so I have to make sure no-one sees me doing it.

I am three and am going to be four soon, talk later.

© Janey Godley, February 2010