Things have taken a turn…We are not even a week in and I am quite certain my mother has lost the remains of any ‘plot’ she had left. Wow.

She – the woman who on more occasions than I can count has consumed her body weight (and mine) in chocolate (Cadbury’s Dairy Milk with Biscuit) – has decided that ‘we’ are getting fit. No, not content with torturing herself during this period of lockdown, she is inflicting her own crazy ideals on me. She arrived this morning at some ungodly hour to announce that we were ‘going on a run’ as she had done her yoga with Adriene. I assumed, intelligently, that this was an April Fools’ joke, but no – she has lost track of day/date/time entirely through this isolation – and she fully intended that the two of us ‘take a turn’ together.

With little other option, I plodded behind her, with her mercilessly cajoling me into action. I hastened to remind her that as an intelligent being, I can only run when being chased, particularly by plastic bags…She ignored my protestations and ran the grand total of 100 metres, dragging me along behind her. Having never run anywhere in her life before, this exertion led her to take to her bed for the afternoon. However, without that pesky Netflix subscription (that I am still hoping to get sponsored for her) she was back all too quickly, planning our ‘day of activity’ tomorrow.

Readers, serious times call for serious measures, so I have written to the President to ask that ponies be allowed to move freely during this time of lockdown. I need to ensure that when she runs, I will legally be allowed to run as fast as possible in the opposite direction.

For let it never be said otherwise, HUMANS BE CRAZY.

Yours,

Pridey xxx