23rd November

He brought presents. For the thing. For the Mummy. For the home. He’s getting worse. Maybe He’ll get so bad that He loses it enough to let me out, maybe for a family stroll, and maybe I’ll find a nice big rock or stick or something and He’ll obligingly turn His back so I can hit Him with it, over and over again until His head is garden mulch or something. Wouldn’t that be nice? I do love gardening, don’t you?

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22nd November

Yes! Things could and did get worse. He knows. And He’s ‘Pleased as a beaver in spring’, what ever that means. Now He says we’re going to be together forever, a proper little family. Daddy supporting the family and Mummy locked in the Box. I DON’T WANT THIS. I WANT HIM LOCKED IN A BOX AND ME FREE WITH NO EVIL SPAWN OF HIS GROWNIG INSIDE ME! WE WILL NEVER BE A FAMILY! NEVER!!!!!!

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21st November

My morning sickness was so bad over the past couple of days that I thought I was finally going to get my wish and lose the damn thing. But I didn’t. he just stayed with me the whole time. How sweet. Could thing actually get any worse?!

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