The thing about Shimmy is that she's very cute when she's on the dining table with her face buried in a bouquet of roses...


... but slightly less appealing when it's buried in a plate of roast chicken. Sadly I don't have a photo of that. I was too busy sprinting across the living room and shouting "Noooooo!!!" as I watched our bank holiday dinner disappearing down the cat. I wouldn't mind, but there were twelve chicks hidden around the flat on Saturday night, and she didn't touch those.

The good news, however, is that despite our cat-related disasters, we've been able to remain positive and upbeat at all times. And it's all thanks to Amelie. She asked me to play 'Hungry Dinos' with her yesterday, which is basically 'Hungry Hippos' for victims of child poverty, and as I got it down from the shelf, she said this:

"And remember, Daddy, there are no sad faces allowed when you're playing this game."

As a man who'd just lost his dinner to a fat stray, I was naturally a bit indignant to hear this news, so I responded with "Really?"

To which Amelie replied, "Yes. It says so on the box."

I rarely accept anything she says as the truth, so I asked her to show me.

And she pointed out this:


I wasn't sure if that was a 'No Sad Faces' rule, or just a ban on less than four Tintin impersonators, but either way, we both smiled and got on with the game.