Editor's (guest) blog: 'My Peppa Pig hell' by Marnie Gwyther, aged 11 months

Yesterday I was forced to do a photo-op with Yvette Cooper (but not Peppa Pig). I cried.

Last Updated: 31 Aug 2010

The first thing you’ll probably want to know is why haven’t politicians learned the first rule of campaign photo opportunities – never go anywhere near small kids like me. Or animals. There are known knowns and known knowns when it comes to this activity. And anyway, baby-kissing during elections is sooo 20th century.

It all started on Monday when The Parents get a text from the nursery informing them that Peppa Pig was going to be putting in an appearance together with a couple of senior government ministers - and would they mind us lot being snapped by the paps? (Peppa Pig - as if! Some out-of-work actor dressed up in a pink porcine suit, more like).  So yesterday morning we’re all sitting there in a circle, freshly scrubbed, having been carefully vetted for nasty smells in the strides. And in they all march in search of some cheap photo opportunity on safe ground. Then we hear a rumour that due to copyright issues and a disagreement with the owners of the rights, Peppa won’t be appearing after all. 'Lol', I muttered to my mate Septimus (yes, really): 'The Sun will go to town on this'. (I was right - 'Pig Deserts Sinking Ship – I’m sick of all their porkies' was today's front-page splash.) 

So, in Peppa’s absence,  the next thing I know I’ve been carried from the playpen outside and plonked down at a table next to these two strange, badly-dressed women with dubious broad smiles. Why they chose me, God knows. I’m a party-loving girl like the best of them, but only have two teeth and am bald as a budgie. Not Pampers ad material. What with all the prodding and false bonhomie, it wasn’t long before... [CONTINUED]

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Editor's (guest) blog: 'My Peppa Pig hell' by Marnie Gwyther, aged 11 months
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