This child bait plan is rubbish

Fule Grit takes her little grits to the farm.

She does this because she wants Shark, Squirrel and Tiger to be compliant, agreeable, sit down, and shut up. Then she can get her head around some boring typesetting work and hopefully put clothes in the washing machine.

If command and control is not taken of the laundry soon we will be chasing my trousers down the street because those beauties are now walking under their own momentum, striding round the front room and issuing death threats to the milk man.

Taking the little grits to the farm this morning is part of Grit's grand plan.

Depending on which way you look at it, it is called BRIBERY or a REWARD AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR FORTHCOMING COOPERATION, BECAUSE WHEN WE GET HOME YOU'RE PLAYING IN THE GARDEN AND LEAVING ME ALONE FOR THREE HOURS.

Either way you look at it, it is a rubbish plan.


Don't try it. It is nearly as rubbish as the world's most rubbish plan of child care dreamed up by Big Bro in desperation at 11pm while his little niece grits are boinging around the beds. That plan was, I will give you a Kit Kat if you go to sleep. That was, and still is, the winner of the world's most rubbish child control plan, bed time category.

Of course once we are at the farm, the little grits scarper into the fields. After two hours sitting alone by a wheelbarrow I'd buy a laptop there and then should anyone passing be selling one.



When the gritlets emerge they have picked the equivalent of a month's wage in strawberries, boxed them up and are marching towards the pay desk anticipating a cooking session with a strawberry tart when we get home, thank you very much.


Well the advantage of the day is quite lost. I have spent more than I earned and gone off entirely the idea of working at all.

So we invade the gooseberry fields, come home, and make gooseberry fool.

Appropriate.