Hi Ewan here.

I know I am supposed to be blogging my fifth and final birthday blog but I just had to do a special blog because on Thursday I had this surprising and amazing day.

Thursdays and Fridays are different days from the rest of the week. I know you will say, “We know that.”

But I mean I have Mum–Bonding days on those two days.

Ok, so you are saying, “Ah, that’s lovely.”

But you don’t know my Mum. Yes, she’s lovely. But she’s also a teacher. So we run a strict regime in our household which means Thursdays and Fridays are not a doddle for me, in fact they are very tiring.

But this week, I got up, went to football training and at 11.30am on the dot (he’s always a stickler for time) Grandad turns up on the doorstep.

I know it’s Grandad without looking because he keeps his finger on the bell until or even after Mum or Dad answer the door. They find it so irritating but Brother Rory and me love it, it makes us laugh.

We have two Grandads, Grandad David and Silly Grandad. Who rings the doorbell forever and ever? Silly Grandad of course.

What I had not realised is I was babysitting Grandad for the rest of the day. All my Christmases come in one day.

The thing is when I’m looking after Grandad I rule the world.

For a start I asked for the Gingerbread Man on TV. Mum and Dad do not allow me to watch this. It is on YouTube and they have quality issues with YouTube productions.

Grandad doesn’t care.

Grandad should live in a bottle or a lamp and he and Mamma should change names. You see he is my Genie and my every wish is his command and he never fails.

For those still pondering the name bit, Mamma’s name is ‘Jeannie’. I don’t understand spelling yet, apparently it is spelt differently from Genie but sounds the same to me.

The thing about the Gingerbread Man is it is so good and realistic because the fox eats him at the end. I like that. You see he’s all show “You can’t catch me I’m the Gingerbread Man. I ran away from the old lady and I ran away from the old man and I ran away from a cow, and I ran away from a pig and I ran away from a horsey and I can run away from you.” And the fox ate him that showed him, the cocky little b******.

Goldilocks and the Three Bears followed. Have you seen the damage she does to the bear’s home, a right vandal and never even apologies.

Next was Little Red Ridding Hood and The Wolf. Now there is no way that wolf would get near either my Granny or Mamma. I would stop him. And Grandad would help me. Little Red Ridding herself is so gullible and stupid! Just look at her clothes there’s a clue. You either wear all the Superman gear a red cape with pants on the outside or wear something completely different. Not half and half.

Next I decided I wanted lunch. With Grandad serving it I could have anything I requested. I thought long, deep and hard. What I needed was the food of the gods, yes, Strawberry jam on toast. Yummy, yummy, yum, yum.

Once I got through that I had a chocolate bar and then a packet of Hula Hoops. Then I asked for a fruit pot. I’m very conscious about my five a day.

Grandad gave me my fruit pot. The problem is these days at three years old I prefer to feed myself. I don’t like being spoon fed. But that means Grandad just sitting idly watching TV whilst I eat. That is just not good for him. So, I decided I needed to put him to work. After every mouthful I insisted he wash my spoon.

It’s not that I am over hygienic although my mouth is obviously full of germs and peas and carrots and stuff. Yuck! But it was a matter of keeping Grandad occupied through my lunch. Too much TV is not good for him and he feels at a loose end now I can feed myself.

After lunch he kept wanting to change my nappy. This caused many issues. He can’t get it into his head how humiliating it is to be laid on a mat with all your genetaliar exposed to the world whilst he faffs around trying to change my nappy. Anyway, I am a big boy now and wear pull ups.

Finally the penny dropped and he asked if I would like to sit on the potty. I sat on my potty very comfortably watching TV. You see the potty protects my modesty but you get the feeling of freedom as the breeze freely flows around your private parts.

Half an hour later he took me off the potty and put on my pull ups. Thank goodness for that I was bursting for a wee but was scarred of messing the potty up.

“Shall we go and see Mamma?” Grandad asked.

I jumped at the chance.

Mamma had barred me that day. She wanted her house to be spotlessly clean like a new pin but then had realised cleanliness did not make up for being in my company with my charm, wit, humour and charisma.

I just could not believe Grandad, he took me the long way round, around Linby and Papplewick. Have you ever done that route to Mamma’s house? If so you’ll understand why I fell asleep with boredom.

When I awoke Mamma was there as if by magic or as if I was dreaming.

Later Mamma and Grandad took me home in the buggy. Why not the car? Goodness knows.

Rory was not home. Apparently Mum had taken him for art lessons. Is that favouritism or what? They say I’m not old enough to draw. Right? But I am, the fact is that they don’t take me to lessons so how do they expect me to know how to drawer.

I suppose I had had one of the best day’s of my life with Grandad – except the days we went to the zoo…and the day we went to Thomasland…and my birthday…and all three Christmas Days…and the days we went to the Aquarium…and the day we had the fishpond in the garden…and the day I go for swimming lessons with Mum…and the days Mamma picks me up from nursery…and the days at Grannys…and when Grandad David comes…and when I go for football training…and when Auntie NanNan & Uncle ColCol come with Freya and George…and we have time with Uncle Chris, Auntie Parvene and Isaac, Aiysha and Amani…and when Auntie Debbie comes…and…