At exactly nine months old today, it's time for me to let The Poop do a bit more stuff.
Like get herself a trade, give us a bit of keep and generally learn to pay her bloody way.

All her formula and porridge and jars of mush don't come cheap. And she knows it. It's not like she was born yesterday. Doesn't stop her blowing raspberries when she's got a mouthful though, does it? 
She'll soon learn the value of money when she starts putting something in the pot.
A decent day's graft buys a decent day's pay.
Alright, alright, so she can't stand up yet, but that doesn't rule out a desk job. Yes, I know she wouldn't be able to use the phone. And I am fully aware that she cannot type. She can't read or write either, but Christ, if we keep going at that rate, she'll never find a steady income. 
While Kerry Katona's working, there's always hope.

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