I kicked a baby yesterday.

I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know it was in the house, there was a meeting going on in the front room, and it must have been brought in with someone there.

Anyway, because of this meeting, I sneaked upstairs to fetch something, rootled around, found what I was looking for; a photo album, big A4 thing, pictures of the Sahara.

And quietly, softly, I padded downstairs, with album spread out in front of me, looking for pictures of camels. At the bottom of the stairs, I bumped into something soft.

Damn cat, I thought, and lilted the album to see one of the biggest babies I’d ever seen, stanng up at me with enormous cow-like eyes.

And I’d just kicked it. Not punted it, just nudged it softly on the bum with my bare toe. Thank god I wasn’t coming down the stairs at my normal pace, that’s all I can say.

The baby was 14 months old, and the size of a teenage hippoputomus. This isn’t one of the kids that lives here, just some random kid.

Huge though.
I was going to tell this story on the audioblog, but had nightmares of hearing it back in a courtroom. Still, me kicking the baby was the least that could have happened.
The baby wandered around the house, flicking plug sockets on and off,

rifling through drawers pulling out whole boxes of ibruprofen.

From not being in a babysitting position at all, I found myself plodding around the house, removing the baby from the jaws of death every 20 seconds. But, I swear to you, it was huge – Huge.

In a light, this baby could take on Death and win. Death and all his little bunnies of doom.

Huge.
(Shakes head.)

Really fucking huge.