Hello.

My name is Favourite Son.

Finally got the grumpy old sod off to sleep. It's taking longer each night.

It's difficult from my cot. Bars and that. I have to bloody shout to make sure he's O.K. He always trots up to tell me everything is fine and lie me back down (as if I couldn't do it myself) but you can never be sure.

He's kipping on the sofa now. Don't know why he hasn't gone to bed. It's like he's given up on the idea.

Lightweight.

Sometimes, when he really wants me to comfort him, he'll sit with me in front of his magic television that he controls with his hand. But he'll make a funny noise and do some things very quickly and all the pictures of Mummy without her shirt on will dissappear from the magic television.

Wait a minute. Doesn't Mummy have black hair?

Anyway. Feeling a bit sleepy now. Just got everyone settled - even Big Sister (need a wee my arse) - so maybe it's time I got my head down.

It's bloody hard work running this place you know.