Wishful thinking
I sometimes wish Mum would cut it out with the babytalk. I mean, seriously, "Climb on board the Mummy Express to Sleepytown"? I'm going to be 12 on Monday, I'm not a kitten anymore! It's not even as if she knows the way to Sleepytown anyway. She tosses and turns half the night. Sleeping on top of that woman is like trying to sleep on a mechanical bull. Oh, and if she comes out into the garden and calls me "Baby boy" in front of the whole neighbourhood again I'm going to scream!