I would firstly like to state that I am not a WerePudding this recent nickname coined by my mother is both unfair and untrue. This is however, my revenge story. Remember how I told you that stealthy Sausage had eaten my Sophie Giraffe? Well the time is now right to get him back. Revenge they say is a dish best served cold. I am serving this colder and more unpleasant than rice pudding from the fridge. Yes Mother I am talking to you here. Cold rice pudding is disgusting and if you offer it to me again I will throw it at you.
Where was I? Oh yes revenge on that sly Sausage. Those dogs have been getting more brazen than ever of late. Clearly they are enjoying the weaning phase. (Mum calls them the clean up crew. But why she lets them lick my face clean…) Still I can sit up now and I finally have control over these hands. Giraffe stealing boy Sausage has taken to sitting next to me. I know he is after my new monkey. I shall defend that monkey to the death believe me. I can’t face another loss like Sophie.
So he sidles over the other day. It startles me slightly to find him so close. I swear he has stealth technology. Anyway it puts me off my game and I topple face first onto the couch next to him. I then realise how close his ears are. So I grab one. Oooh this is fun, tug, tug. Mother removes his ear from my hand. Ah ha I think, this could be good. I spend the next 10 minutes toppling forward and grabbing bits of him. Mum banishes him from the sofa! Excellent 1-0 Pudding.
I have now taken to torturing him at every opportunity. If Mum takes her eyes off me for a second I try to grab him. He is stupid though. He doesn’t learn. The other day I had actually managed to grab his tail and start chewing on the end before he moved. Mum has had to separate us. Both Sausages are now banned from being near me, for their own safety!
Still the game is afoot and once I get crawling those Sausages had better watch themselves. I’ll teach you to eat my Sophie. That tail is so getting pulled…
Now I know that in ghost stories they say the witching hour is midnight. Some people think the spirits arise around 3am to camp out in creepy town. That this is when blood curdling screams rip through the air… Not so at Pudding HQ. Our witching hour(s) are 3-6pm. This is when the ear splitting shriek of the WerePudding can be heard.
It’s a terrifying sound that rises to a crescendo quite quickly. Once the fever has set in there is no turning back until the magical bath of bubbles is found once more; followed by the creamy elixir of Hipp. There are no silver bullets to slay the beast. The only cure should have been administered earlier on in the day in the form of a long uninterrupted sleep. But while the WerePudding’s fangs are still coming in, sleep is a rare commodity that is not often afforded during daylight hours…
Unfortunately the WerePudding is not restricted to the lunar cycle and she doesn’t give a monkey’s which phase the moon is in. Her primal desire is to find something suitable to gnaw on. Ideally human flesh (necks and fingers appear to be a staple). She is also partial to a giraffe… A WerePudding can be temporarily distracted by a parsnip or some such pureed substance. This is a short-term fix and will not halt the eventual appearance of a fully fledged monster.
There are no real warning signs before the turn. One minute there can be delightful giggles and then in a blink of an eye the beast is there. Fangs bared, frothing at the mouth and howling to the sky. You can attempt to ward off the creature with Bonjela or teething powders. On occasion a well-timed dose of calpol has proved a useful weapon. But none are fool-proof, and it would be a mistake to rely on any one should you be trapped in a confined space with the WerePudding.
The WerePudding does respond to the call of her own. Should you place similarly afflicted babies in her presence she can usually ensure that they can all howl in unison. This means that any social activity is completely abandoned. Leaving the WerePudding’s mother home alone to deal with this tricky creature…