I see you, down there on the left. It's you that has been making my life hell for the past few weeks, huh? All white and sharp like you don't give a damn. You're the reason she won't go to anyone else but me, screams uncontrollably when I'm paying for something at the check out and has poo that's as fluid as the wine the I neck every night after a day of teething tantrums.
Well it's nice of you to finally think about making an appearance. So when are you going to show yourself in your full glory? Because I'm telling you now, you're hurting my little baby and I don't take too kindly to that. Especially not when, in turn, she's hurting me. Smacking me in the face, screaming in my ear and insisting I carry her everywhere so my muscles ache every night when I get in to bed.
Sort it out. I haven't got enough bibs to deal with your shit.
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