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JOURNAL November 2012


es entur v d a ’s ilson W w o Foll k at: .co.u t daily o p s log rs2.b a w t n //a http:


Original photographs of Wilson used by kind permission of TamanduaGirl: www.livingwithanteaters.com


Thursday Wilson certainly had a successful Halloween last night! He says this was because of his 'secret weapon' but he won't tell me what it was. I hope it has nothing to do with the crate of Silly String that arrived from Amazon yesterday! I suppose the responsible, fatherly thing to do would be to ration out his spoils to a few thousand Calories' worth each day... but he's so pleased with his haul that I think rather than eat it he may just keep it as a trophy. Or sell it.


friday Wilson has indeed started selling his excess Trick or Treat sweets from a roadside stall. Embarrassingly, it's just round the corner, where all our neighbours will see it: they're bound to notice that he's selling them the very same sweets that they gave to him only two days ago! Moreover, he's giving them change only in Vermilinguas, the home-made currency that he's started printing. I am SO embarrassed!


saturday Wilson has started Quantitative Easing of the Vermilingua, or the V-note as he now calls it. He's asked his friends to print out this sheet of V-notes and start spending them, as this will 'aid their acceptance into the mainstream banking system.' I asked W about the Chinese writing in the corners of the notes; he said it's not Chinese, it says "Good Luck Spending This!" in Costa Rican. I still worry that this might not be legal, but W is very confident.


sunday Last night Wilson and I went to a local firework display, which we both really enjoyed. We'll set off our own fireworks in the back garden on the traditional date of the 5th of November. Weather permitting. W has agreed to lay on a Guy Fawkes Night barbecue on the patio.


monday Wilson is very excited about our Fireworks tonight. He had wanted to go to the processions at Lewes, but I don't think that is an appropriate place for a five-year-old - I'm not a totally irresponsible parent! Anyway, we've built the bonfire together in the back garden and now W is making a list of the order in which the fireworks should be lit. After that he's starting on the food, which will apparently feature both Pumpkin and Ants heavily.


tuesday There's been so much coverage of the US Election on tv that Wilson thought we would be voting in it. I explained that it was only Americans who could vote, and he said he was frightened of Mr Mick (sic) Romney, adding that he didn't trust people who had Invisible Friends that told them what to do. I couldn't help casting a glance at Antony, and W exploded: 'What do you expect?!' he shouted. 'I'm five years old, I'll grow out of it! And anyway, Hello? Antony's not invisible! He's right here, and he can hear, you know!'

Our bonfire party passed without incident or injury, and W really enjoyed it. When I was young I thought I'd NEVER grow too old or too jaded to love fireworks... But they were fine, and it was lovely seeing the wonder and excitement in W's eyes. I had a bit of an upset tummy this morning -- I expect it's due to an excess of pumpkin. And ants.


wednesday Wilson took the radio to bed with him in the tumble dryer last night, and stayed awake listening to the US Election coverage on Radio 5's Up All Night. I was awoken by him just after 6am when he crawled into bed beside me and said, 'It's okay, it's NOT Mr Mick (sic) Romney!' Then he immediately sank into a deep sleep, and in fact he's still asleep in my bed now.


thursday Wilson was very sad to learn of the death of Clive Dunn, "Cpl Jones" in Dad's Army. After Frasier and The Jeremy Kyle Show, Dad's Army is one of his favourite shows. He specially loved Sargent Wilson and Private Pike. I think the only cast member still surviving is that 'Stupid Boy' Ian Lavender...


friday Wilson, distressed by the footage he's seen on the TV news, has decided to reach out the Paw of Friendship to Greece. He's sending a parcel of money, about V2,000,000, to the prime minister, Antonis Samaras, saying that he is prepared to send a lot more... providing Mr Samaras can send him a few Pounds Sterling in advance so he can buy some more printer ink. He says he won't be accepting Euros or, unsurprisingly, V-notes. It's a generous gesture, but I can't see this bailing out the Greek economy...

Meanwhile, Antony's chief concern is not being accidentally included in the parcel.


saturday Wilson is pretty disappointed not to have been appointed the new Archbishop of Canterbury. He had a Judaeo-Christian upbringing from his mum, Mrs Vermilingua, although he admits he is now more Flying Spaghetti Monsterist than Christian. However, he had always believed this to be an Equal Opportunity country. Still, perhaps it's for the best. He confessed that, in spite of a lot of practicing, he had fears of being unable able to keep the hat on. He would be mortified if it fell of while he was celebrating Mass, say, or during an important bit of a Royal Wedding.


sunday I took Wilson to Brighton Marina yesterday; it was a sunny day and I thought he'd like to see the boats. We did a bit of shopping, went to a cafe/gallery, looked at the boats and had an Italian meal in the evening, but the thing he most enjoyed was when we came across a plaza with several ping-pong tables. Bats and balls were provided and we had a couple of quick games. W said he'd never played before, but he still managed to beat me quite convincingly.


monday The Table Tennis certainly gave Wilson an appetite! We popped into The Laughing Dog Cafe and drank what he declared was 'the biggest and best Hot Chocolate with Cream and Marshmallow I've ever had! Brilliant!' There was a gallery attached to the cafe with lots of screen prints and neon tubes. Wilson loved these, and resolved to take a course on screen printing. And neon tube making.


tuesday As I said, we ate at an Italian restaurant. Wilson drank a little too much vino rosso, but generally behaved very well, and with impeccable table manners. The waiters enjoyed his efforts to speak Italian to them, calling him their piccolo mangiatore magnifico della formica! Wilson blushed a little at this, and said he would have that printed on his business cards.


wednesday Today, according to Wilson (and he has research to back this up) is International Guinness World Record Day. He decided to mount an attempt on the Most Ants Eaten in 60 Seconds record, and when I came down to breakfast this morning I found the kitchen awash with ants and Wilson wielding a stopwatch. He handed me the stopwatch, shouted 'GO!' and started eating for all he was worth. After 60 seconds I cried 'STOP!' 'So, how many ants did I eat?' he asked me. 'I've no idea,' I replied, 'I thought you'd be counting.' 'Oh, do I have to do EVERYTHING? Eat AND count? I am an elite athlete, you know. Well, as it happens I was counting and I calculate that I consumed 499,999. Oh, excuse me,' (he swallowed noisily) 'as you were, 500,000 ants.' I asked him whether that broke the current record, and he told me that there is no current record for eating ants, so he has set the benchmark for others to follow. I remarked that half a million was a very round number, but W was in no mood to have the accuracy of his count challenged; he was off and dancing round the kitchen doing 'The Wilbot' and shouting, 'I Am Officially Amazing!'. The Wilbot is something he invented during the Olympics, but until today he's not had the chance to use it.


thursday Wilson is having a hard time today -- he's on the phone to The Guinness Book Of World Records, trying to get them to recognise his World Record of Number Ants Eaten in One Minute. Guinness say that they don't recognise eating records 'because they can be dangerous', and in any case they need an official Guinness observer present during any world record attempt, to ratify it. Wilson considers this latter to be an attack on his integrity, and keeps shouting, 'Let me speak to Mr McWhirter! Or Mr Guinness! I don't even care which!' I don't think he's going to win this one...


friday I've recently been diagnosed with diabetes. Since Wilson does all the food shopping and the cooking I thought I'd better tell him about it, and this morning I did. 'My mum, Mrs Vermilingua, used to get diabetes a lot when I was little,' he replied. 'She used to treat herself and it would go away in a couple of days.' 'Really?' I asked, 'How did she treat it?' 'Well, she'd drink a lot to keep her fluids up. Gin mostly. And she'd eat some ant yoghourt and take a lot of rest. She'd go to bed for days, eating only iced buns with butter and ants. Then she'd get better.' This sounded much better to me than drugs, a restricted diet and constant blood tests, so when W offered to bring me some yoghourt and gin with a buttered iced bun I agreed immediately. Just as he was leaving the room he stopped and thought for a moment, before suddenly announcing, 'No!' 'No?' I asked. 'No what?' 'No, it wasn't diabetes, it was diarrhoea.'


saturday My GP suggested that I should visit the optician to get a full eye exam. Wilson was fascinated and, forgetting that we were there for my benefit, not his, proceeded to choose some frames for himself. From the Designer section, obviously. He was most concerned that the lenses should be tinted to complement his eye colour. He also thought he'd need some of the special prescription swimming goggles (in spite of the fact that he can't swim), and a pair of prescription ski goggles (in spite of the... well, you get the idea).


sunday Following my eye exam, the optician's findings were quite reassuring. Wilson, however, was a little disappointed to be told that his eyesight was 'near perfect'... because he'd set his heart on some 'cool and sexy' glasses. Once I'd bought him a pair of sunglasses, though, he cheered up and told everyone in the shop that the optician had said his eyes were 'perfect and beautiful.' Then we headed off to Brighton Marina for a cup of coffee...


monday We drove home to Uckfield via Brighton Marina, to avoid the city traffic, and stopped off there so Wilson could have another hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows. On our way to the restaurant Wilson noticed the Brighton Walk of Fame: a series of granite plaques set into the pavement, each honouring a celebrity who had some sort of tenuous link with Brighton. We strolled the length of the walk, reading the plaques and W occasionally asking me who someone was. 'You used to live in Brighton didn't you, New Dad?' Wilson asked me. I confirmed that I'd lived there for most of my life. 'And now you're my New Dad?' I smiled and nodded. 'Yet I'm not listed amongst these so-called celebs!' he cried. 'They include this Victorian alleged paedophile, yet they exclude me! Something's going to be done about this...' Oh dear. I can feel a campaign coming on.


tuesday Wilson was researching online how to get his name added to the Brighton Walk of Fame when he came across an announcement from the De La Warr Pavilion, which is near here, that Adam Ant would be playing in concert there... and he'd missed it! By two days! Along with the Beatles, Adam Ant is his favourite band (who can forget his tribute CD "Hi Wilson sings Ant Music"?) and he's really mad to have missed them performing so close to us. Still, he's channeling his anger into his Walk of Fame campaign.


wednesday Wilson has been doing some research into how to get his name added to the Brighton Walk of Fame... He's been in touch with the person in charge, the Founder and Managing Director, David Courtney, who told him that, "The nomination and voting for the Brighton Walk of Fame are determined by community voting." W is now appealing to all his friends to email David Courtney to ask to have Wilson Vermilingua OBE included. He says that this is their chance to rally round and help him in a matter that is close to his heart – the address is: info@walkoffame.co.uk


thursday Wilson is ingeniously combining World Television Day, which was a couple of days ago, with World Doctor Who Day today by watching Dr Who on UK Gold all day. I think the Who-a-thon has already gotten too much for him: he's dropped off, and he's only on the Third Doctor! Tom Baker and all of the later Doctors have been fantastic, but I think William Hartnell will always be the most sinister... W has warned me that I shall have to cook dinner for us both this evening, as he can't leave the tv. I think this means he'll be too scared to go into the kitchen alone!


friday WIlson is still in bed, exhausted after his 24-hours Dr Who-a-thon. Last night he refused to enter any empty rooms unaccompanied, just in case there was a DALEK in there. He was pretty certain there was one in the downstairs loo, but I think it was just the cistern gurgling. In spite of all the help and messages from his friends, Wilson has not heard anything from the Brighton Walk of Fame people. Rather than moping about it, though, he has adopted the Guerilla approach, and designed his own Walk of Fame plaque. He asks that each of you print it out, cut round the image and stick it on a pavement near you. Or if you live near a Walk of Fame, stick it over one of the existing plaques. Never downhearted, Wilson has a real CAN-DO attitude... and a fear of Dr Who monsters!


saturday We've just arrived back from Brighton Marina. While we were there Wilson had another cup of the 'best in the world' hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows at "The Laughing Dog Cafe and Gallery." He insisted that Antony should also have one of his own which, unsurprisingly, W finished for him – the cup was bigger than Antony who is, after all, only a small stuffed toy. The purpose of our visit, though, was to install some of Wilson's Walk-of-Fame stickers. He's very pleased with the result, but he still wants all his friends to continue to apply pressure to the Walkof-Fame people to have a real Walk-of-Fame plaque installed with his name on it.


sunday Wilson is a bit disappointed not to have had a reply from the Greek Prime Minister. He told me that the PM probably thought his offer to help him through the economic crisis was too generous to be true, but still he should have sent an email thanking him. 'My paws are tied, though!' he continued. 'There is no way I can print any more money until I get some more cyan ink!' monday We did a little Xmas shopping today, and Wilson chose the cards to send to his family. He sends everyone in his family an identical card, to minimise jealousy and squabbling, so he had to choose the perfect card that would please everyone and offend no one. You might be surprised to learn how long that took.


tuesday We continued our Xmas shopping at ASDA. Wilson has a deep-seated and profound love of stationery and spent a lot of time in this aisle, gazing lovingly at binders and notebooks, smelling the erasers and pencils. I shall be very surprised if I don't get a stapler and a box of rubber bands for Xmas!

wednesday Today is Electronic Greetings Day, so this message will be 140 chars. long, Twitter format. However, Wilson has something VERY important to...


thursday Wilson is hoping to start decorating the house for Xmas tomorrow, so we had to pop out to do some last-minute tinsel shopping. I had no idea that choosing tinsel would be so difficult, or take so long. The colour, apparently, has to be just right. Pantone swatches were consulted frequently. Who knew?


Ant Wars II: November 2012  

A journal of my life with a talking anteater. I appear to have been adopted by a talking ant-eater called Wilson. This is my journal, listin...

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