Ronny Reindeer, baby.

Slowly but surely I am clearing my room of post-university debris and slotting myself back into pre-university life. Or, alternatively I am shifting things around in lieu of putting them away, making more mess and procrastinating to the best of my abilities. Today for example, I piled an assortment of bags and boxes onto my bed, opened and closed a couple of drawers and then sat down to read a colourful farmyard scrapbook I found on top of my parents' wardrobe. Inside I found such gems as christening cards, newspaper clippings and this, the original word-processed manuscript to all my authorial ambitions:

A STORY BY JESSICA, AGED 3 AND A BIT

Dear Noddy, he went to the supermarket and his friend Martha was there. He said to Martha, I just came to see you at the supermarket and I came to do my shopping. He met his other friend called Jumbo and he said to Jumbo, you're my friend aren't you. He just walked on and then he saw Miss Fluffy Cat and Tessy Bear. Hailey went to school on Tuesday and it was the ballet day and she put on a lovely dress, a lovely necklace, lovely shoes and Jessica was there with her pretty dress on and shoes and socks and her ribbon and hair band and some bracelets and a necklace. Big Ears was anxious to find a crying little Noddy.

Tessy Bear, we're going to have a lovely party feast tonight and a cake. Please Tessy Bear, can you come to our feast and Peter Rabbit come as well with Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail and their mummy (their daddy was put in the pie by Mr McGregor). Miss Fluffy Cat, please can you come to our tea?

Tessy Bear, please one day, one summer's afternoon, when it was sunny, when the sun was up and Bumpy and Tessy Bear and Tubby Bear and the baby bears were out playing in the garden, inside the tent, Tubby Bear looked under the tent and there was a reindeer! 'Hey go away! You're not supposed to be here. Go back to the north pole!' 'Yeah, but I don't live at the north pole, I'm Ronny Reindeer, baby' he said.

THE END.

(Hereby, the page descends into an anarchy of repeatedly typed letters, numbers and symbols as I expect, my dad relinquishes control of the keyboard)

© 1993, Jessica Cripps. Except of course the countless references to Noddy and Peter Rabbit. Those bits probably belong to the estates of Enid Blyton and Beatrix Potter :)