Felix: “Can we get a dog?”




Me, iPad in one hand, almost entirely blank piece of paper entitled ‘Christmas presents’ in other: “Afraid that will never happen sweetheart.”


“Daddy hates dogs.” 


Felix: “But I said please!”




Husband: “Oh you don’t want a dog Felix. Horrid things, dogs.”


“I could give you a hundred reasons why not to have a dog.”


Me, looking up: “A hundred?”


Husband: “Yep.”


Me: “Go on then.”


Felix: “Alex has a dog, AND…”


*eyes glint with delight*


“It sniffs…”


*dissolves into giggles*


“It sni…”


*more giggles*






*collapses with hysterical laughter*


Husband, defiantly: “Number one. They’re obsessed with ars… ‘bottoms’.”


Felix: “BOTTOMS!”


“Bottoms! Bottoms! Bottoms!”


*leaps around room*




Husband: “Number two. They jump up everywhere.”


Felix, ascending the back of an armchair: “BOTTOM FART!!”


Me: “Down from there please love. Chairs are for sitting, not standing on.”


“Felix… down please.”


Down Felix.”








… Good boy.”


*Look back at iPad*


“Any more thoughts on what to get your brother for Christmas? They’ve got a shirt made with ‘recycled post-consumer waste’ on here.”


Husband: “Which means…?”


Me: “Not entirely sure. But you know – it’s ethical. We really, really should get all our Christmas presents from companies that produce ethical… oh no scrap that it’s a hundred and fifteen quid.”


Felix: “I want a dog for Christmas!” 


“Tell Father Christmas I want a dog!”


Husband: “Well. While I’m sure he’d love a shirt made from recycled plastic bottles, what I reckon he’d really, really love, is to go off mountain biking… with me… again.”


“You know – properly.”


Me: “…properly?”


Husband: “You know – go off for a weekend. Or something.”


Me: “I’m sure he would. How kind of you.”


Husband: “I’m just saying, you know – he’d like it. That’s all I’m saying!”




Me: “Felix cover your mouth with your hand when you sneeze love. And don’t wipe your nose with your sleeve!!! Come on. Here’s a tissue.”


Husband: “Number three. Dogs slobber all over the place.”




Me: “You could pretend to BE a dog?! That would be fun!”


Felix: “I don’t want to be a dog I WANT A DOG IT’S NOT FAIR I HATE YOU!” ”


Me: “Are you feeling hungry love?”


“You sound like you’re feeling hungry?”


*Produce organic, over-priced faux-chocolate snack bar made almost entirely of dates from jeans pocket*


Felix: “Ooooh yes please Mummy!”


“Number four. Dogs only give a damn about you because you’re their source of food.” 


“Well it wouldn’t be much fun for him to go on his own would it?”


Me: “Eh?”


Husband: “The long weekend of mountain biking.”


Me: “… long weekend?”


Husband: “I’d obviously have to go with him.”


Me: “Obviously.”


*Look across to a silent Felix scrunching his crotch with his hands*


Me: “Felix, do you need the toilet?”


Felix: “No.”


Me: “Do you?”


Felix: “No!”


Me: “I think you do darling.”


Felix: “I DO NOT!”


Me: “I know! Have a wee now, then get changed into your camel costume to check it still fits!”


“The school nativity is next week!”


Husband: “Number five. You have to basically revolve your whole life around their toilet needs else you risk them weeing – or worse – everywhere.”


“In fact that should’ve been the very first reason!”


“Hold on – a camel? Again?”


Me: “Yeah, they got to choose.”


Felix: “Camels have humps!”


Me: “Apparently there’s ten angels, nine kings, four Marys, two Josephs, a wise man and a camel.”


Felix: “And a donkey! Sam’s a donkey.”


“Dexter wanted to be a dragon, but they don’t have dragons in that film.”


Husband: “Well that’s easy then – just re-using last year’s costume.”


“Wait. What film?”


Felix: “The Jesus film.”


Me: “It’s not a film love – it’s a…” *look across at husband* ”…story?”


Husband: “Yeah…a story that happened a long, long time ago.”


Felix: “In real life?”


Husband: “Yeah…”


*Looks at me*




*Looks back at Felix*




“… maybe.”


Me, picking flakey brown stuff off the corner of the iPad: “Seriously, how on earth is there Weetabix on here?!”


Husband: “Number six. No matter how much their owners try to hide it, dogs leave gross signs of their doggy-ness aaaall over the place.”


*Sit’s back, satisfied.*


Me: “So that’s six.”


“Only 94 to go…”


Husband: “Six very good reasons why we’d be MAD to get a dog.”


“Sorry Felix – no dogs in this house!”






“Don’t wipe your nose on the cushion! That’s disgusting!”




*turns cushion over*