The world is my lobster

As I would imagine is often the case with these things (although how much can I know... I have little basis for comparison) it was pure, unadulterated shame which finally gave me the impetus I needed to get my hand-knee-bum-in-the-air co-ordination on track.

It was just getting embarrassing. While my contemporaries (specifically Katie Brown, Benjy S, Toby G and Jacob) were getting from A to B and other associated members of the alphabet song, I was still lying flat on my tummy, kicking like a mule - ridiculously expecting that this was going to be enough to propel me across the room like the proverbial projectile vomit.

So there I was, helplessly watching them see something they liked the look of and simply going to get it... all the while trying to hold in their dribbling sniggers. Needless to say I got left with the toy equivalents of coffee creams... no fun as you can imagine.

There's nothing like a slice of humiliation (and the thought that Martha may go for a guy on the move rather than a fella whose athletic ability is more on par with a dollop of mashed potato) to get you going... so that's what I've done... and in the slightly modified words of Queen, Don't even think of Stopping Me Now.