Eish!

The Womble gave birth yesterday.

A lovely little girl I’m told and I can only believe it. She is cursed with good genes. Short hairy genes but good ones nonetheless. I still need to pop round and go and see for myself. I need to borrow a camping chair for Up the Creek anyway.

I’m told there are no hooves, extra digits nor excessive body hair which is good.

She hasn’t written her first sonata yet, though, which is bad. There is not much time left to qualify for Musical Prodigy and she needs to start immediately. After this brief window period she’ll be forced to compete in circus acts to make a mark in this world.

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