MISSION STATEMENT

Wilson is in the kitchen refining his Mission Statement. 

He's listed his personal favourites and pinned them up on the notice board, so that you can vote on your favourite — or suggest something entirely new, if you think of anything suitable.

His front-runners are:

     'That's the way I roll!'
     'I am Anteater — hear me ROAR!'
     'Damaged but Adorable'

He's ditched 'We exist to quickly utilise meta-services' on the grounds that, although it sounded very 21st Century, he didn't know what it meant, and would have been embarrassed if anyone had asked him to explain it.

Yesterday's fANTastic! answer is: ANTimony
Today's fANTastic! question is: This ANT gradually pours liquid from one vessel into another, without disturbing the sediment.
What ANT is it?

MOVEMBER

This morning I found Wilson in the bathroom — an unusual event in itself — balancing on a chair so he could examine his chin in the mirror.

'What's up, old mate?' I asked him.

He replied that he was taking part in No-Shave November, AKA Movember, but was very disappointed by his lack of progress beard-wise.

I said he'd just have to be patient... for a few years. He is only eight, after all.

He then said that he thought he needed a Mission Statement, explaining that his Family Motto 'Lentus In Totus Res' (Slothful in All Things) doesn't accurately reflect his his ebullient and can-do attitude to life.

I told him I'd give it some thought, and I'd also ask you if you have any ideas. What do you think?

• Yesterday's fANTastic! answer is: ANTlers — which many of you correctly guessed.
• Today's fANTastic! question is: This ANT has an Atomic Number of 51, and he sounds like an anarchist. What ANT is it?

 I can't even remember what an Atomic Number is...

UNEXPECTED ANSWERS

He's made everyone wait a whole day for the answer, but this morning Wilson swept into the kitchen and announced, 'The answer to yesterday's fANTastic! question is: constANT.'

I had to interrupt him, telling him that one or two guesses had arrived on-line... and they seemed to be correct... but different.

W frowned, musing 'How can that be? What, pray, are these, um, counterfeit so-called solutions?'

I replied that one of his friends in New Zealand had submitted two answers, dormANT and stagnANT.

He considered my news in silence for several minutes, before picking up his marker pen and — rather grudgingly I thought — appending two alternative answers to this card.

Then he selected another card from his pack and intoned, 'Today's fANTastic! question is an easy one, with an unambiguous answer: These ants sit on a deer's head — what ants are they?'

STUPID BOY

Wilson gathered everyone in the kitchen so he could explain how his new card game — fANTastic fun! — is played.

Once everyone had settled down, Wilson drew a card from the pack on the table and read it silently to himself (although his lips did move a little — enough for me to guess the answer even before I'd heard the question).

Then he announced, 'This ant is very old! — now you've got to think of a word with "ant" in it that means very old. Alright?'

This was met with blank looks, so he continued, 'As this is the first time you've played, I shall tell you the answer, which is, "Antique"!'

He beamed at everyone, but sensed he had more explaining yet to do.

'You see, "Antique" means something that is very old, and it's got "ant" in it. "ANT-ique" — you see?'
He drew another card and announced, 'Okay here's another one — this ant always stays the same! What ant is it?'

Tiny Toy raised his paw confidently and said, 'Gary! The ant is Gary — Gary is a good name for an ant...'

Wilson puffed out his cheeks and exhaled deeply, reminding me very much of Captain Mainwaring from Dad's Army trying to have a sensible conversation with Private Pike.

fANTastic NEW GAME

Wilson has proudly shown me the prototype of his new 'Educational Fun for All the Family' card game.
He has named his game, inevitably perhaps, 'fANTastic!' because it is allegedly fANTastic fun to play — guarANTeed.

W has not yet entrusted me with the details of how one actually plays the game, but he says that he will Reveal All tomorrow. I suspect ants are involved. 

I can hardly contain my excitement... Not.

Oh alright — I'm a little bit excited.

FRIDGE ORGANISATION

Wilson has been sorting out the fridge in the newly decorated kitchen. 

By 'Sorting Out' I don't mean rearranging the food by flavour or colour, or throwing out stuff that's passed its use-by date; I mean establishing storage rights.

He has got out his Dymo Labeller that he had for his birthday a few years ago, and is sticking WILSON'S SHELF labels on all the shelves. 

ALL the shelves — I seem to be permitted to use the Salad Drawer at the bottom of the fridge and half the Egg Rack... but maybe he just hasn't got round to sticking his labels there yet.

GAME OF WORDS

One of Wilson's friends has told him how to contact the Flying Spaghetti Monster. He Tweeted him last night, and the FSM has Faved his Tweet, but not yet replied.

W says that's 'Totes understandable, 'cos His Noodlyness must be v. busy administering a whole religion,' and has settled down to work on his new Family Card Game.

He's sitting in the living room with a huge dictionary, and keeps asking me very taxing questions. 

Questions like, 'New Dad, what is that 18th Century word that means a person who receives an annuity?' 

Or, 'New Dad, can you think what the word is that describes a law or contract drawn up by deed?'

This sounds like a VERY DIFFICULT card game, and I don't know how much fun it's going to be...

PLAN B

Following his Rejection Letter from the Pope, Wilson has resolved to take his Miraculous Toast somewhere it WILL be appreciated: to the Pastafarians!

'What goes better with Spaghetti than Toast?' he asked, 'It'll be RIGHT up their street!'

Only problem is, he doesn't know how to contact His Noodlyness — does anyone have an email address for the Pope of Pasta?

AN UNANSWERED PRAYER

Wilson was just discussing with me whether he will be an Ordinary Saint, or a Patron Saint — of Ants, perhaps — when the postman rang at the door to give him a letter postmarked Vatican City. This was what he'd been waiting for so long.

He tore open the envelope with some trepidation, then quickly read the contents…

Wilson took the news much better than I'd expected, expressing only mild disappointment.
He must have a Plan B...

HOLY TOAST

Wilson still hasn't heard from The Vatican, so to pass the time he's framed the Polaroid of the 'Miraculous Image' of his face on a slice of toast. 

He has converted the spare bedroom into what he calls The Reliquary and installed the picture behind curtains, which he will draw apart for a fee.

He's charging 10p to open the drapes — reduced from £2.50 — but he says that the money is all going to a VERY good cause.

I can probably guess what that is! 

Anyway, he's already taken £5.00 off me...

WILSON PREPARES FOR SAINTHOOD

While waiting to hear from the Pope about his application for Sainthood, Wilson is in the kitchen practicing his new signature.

I hope he isn't taking too much for granted — the Holy See is notoriously fastidious about miracles…

WILSON'S ADVENTURE IN THE MAGIC KINGDOM OF DIY

A couple of Wilson's friends have embraced the Rupert the Bear* theme from yesterday and have sent Rhyming Couplets to accompany his adventure: 

     "I'll fix that hole!" our Wilson cries.
     "Please do your best," New Dad replies.

     Wilson knows a cunning way
     A Rupert Annual can save the day.

     "A perfect fit," our Wilson said.
     "And the perfect way to read in bed."

     Young Rupert Bear is full of glee.
     He's right on top for all to see!

They're brilliant, don't you think? Wilson and I LOVE them!

*If you don't know Rupert the Bear, please do Google "Rupert The Bear Annual"  — he's a great British Institution and a nostalgic part of most people's childhood!
[NOT the animated series!]

CONVERSATION PIECE

To pass the time while waiting to hear from the Pope, Wilson has got round to repairing the hole in the ceiling. 

He told me a couple of days ago that in his Museum he had 'the very perfect thing' to repair the hole. I was expecting an offcut of plasterboard [drywall], but what he used was a Rupert the Bear Xmas Annual… and he's hot-glued it to the ceiling, so there's little chance of taking it down.

I tried to conceal my surprise when he showed me the finished job, but he sensed something was wrong.

'I know it's unusual, using a book,' he explained, but it's like a Conversation Piece — and anyway, by the time it's been up there for a year or two, no-one will even notice it any more.'

'Hmmm…' I replied, but he wasn't quite finished. 

'Anyway, don't knock it, New Dad — that was one of my BEST Rupert books!'

I think that, as far as he's concerned, the hole has been repaired and matter is now closed…

IT'S A MIRACLE — POSSIBLY

One of Wilson's friends (who wishes to remain anonymous, to avoid unwanted attention from Network TV) has sent him a photo of a slice of toast bearing what he claims is a 'miraculous image of Wilson'!

W immediately emailed him, asking what had happened to the toast (which he is referring to as the 'miraculous relic') as it might be needed if he ever starts his own religion.

He's just received a reply, saying the toast was eaten with jam and butter, and tasted 'delicious.' This has been a bit of a blow, but nevertheless W feels he has sufficient evidence of the 'blessed miracle' to convince all but the most non-gullible.

He's writing to The Pope right now, enquiring how much Sainthood would cost and whether there's an age limit for it… and a salary.

FIXING A HOLE...

With Hallowe'en and Guy Fawkes Night safely over, Wilson has finally found time in his busy schedule to evaluate the hole in the ceiling for me.

He insisted that this inspection had to be carried out from inside the loft and, while I'm not saying he enlarged the hole by sticking his head through it, there is quite a lot of plaster on the floor beneath it… and it does look a lot bigger than I remember.

The appraisal got off to a bad start when Uncle Zoltan announced that not only was he an expert on bonfire building, he also has unmatched knowledge of holes in ceilings. Which he insisted on imparting. 

He had been holding forth pompously on the existential nature of ceiling holes for several minutes (while Wilson made Herculean efforts not to yawn) when suddenly his hat fell off. 

W tried very hard not to laugh… but totally failed. He fell about giggling hysterically and Uncle Z flew off muttering to himself about 'children today' and their 'lack of respect for their elders. And betters.' 

As it happens, though, when Wilson came down he told me he had 'the very perfect thing' to effect a repair — but it was in his Museum and he didn't have time to get it right now as he was extremely busy.

Well, the hole's been there for quite a while; I don't suppose a few more days will hurt…

BONFIRE NIGHT INJURY

Last night's Bonfire Night Celebrations passed off safely and without incident. 

Unless you count a small scorch to Wilson's mouth when he didn't let a toasted marshmallow cool sufficiently before eating it.

'OW!' he exclaimed, 'Toasted Marshmallows are like Napalm if you don't let them cool down enough! I think these must have been made by DOW Chemical…'

There was no visible damage, and following emergency first-aid treatment (application of chilled Ant Gin and making a fuss of him) he soon forgot all about it.

GUY FAWKES NIGHT PREPARATIONS

When I was a boy, Bonfire Night was one of the BIG nights of the year — right up there with Xmas and your own Birthday — but of course, Hallmark hadn't yet invented Hallowe'en. Nowadays Guy Fawkes is celebrated much less, which is probably a good thing. 

When Wilson first came to live with me we'd have fireworks in the back garden; last year we went to an organised display; this year he says he'd like just a big bonfire so the whole family can attend. With loads of Marshmallows. 

I suspect he'll want loads of Ant Gin too, but fire and gin seems to me like a dangerous combination.

He's in the garden now, discussing Bonfire Construction and making certain that no hedgehogs are hiding under the wood. This is turning out to be quite a heated debate because Uncle Zoltan has declared himself to be a world authority on the art and craft of Bonfire Building, whereas Wilson just wants to pile the wood up and set fire to it… 

Diesel the Goldfish is out there too, not because he likes bonfires (he doesn't — he worries that his water will overheat) but because he's hoping for a drop of rain. He loves a drop of rain.

AIR-SEA RESCUE

As Wilson's re-telling of our voyage round the lighthouse continued, it got more and more exciting!

Actually it got SO thrilling that there were parts I didn't remember at all — our boat sinking, for a start. Perhaps I'm suffering from 'selective amnesia' or PTSD.

Come to that, I don't even recall the bit where our boat was attacked by a giant sea-horse (though it looks more like a swimming donkey in W's diorama — but he's never seen a real sea-horse) or being rescued by the life-boat, or even the incident where armed paramedics were lowered from a helicopter! 

Still, it's Wilson telling the story, and if that's how he remembers it…

Everyone is really enjoying this tale of nautical bravery, with the possible exception of the sTone Brothers. They keep interrupting with muffled questions, eg, 'Is something happening?' 'Is there anybody there?' and, 'Can someone take these bandages off? Hello?'

I'm very excited to announce that Wilson now has 2000 Twitter Followers, and they're all real (which is to say, he hasn't bought any of them)!
Why not head over to Twitter and follow the lovely Wilson yourself? You might love it! 
@WVermilingua 

INCREDIBLE JOURNEY

Wilson has made a model of The Needles Lighthouse out of a toilet-roll tube and a Dairylea cheese spread box, and constructed a diorama of The Needles on the dining room table. 

He had hoped to use one of the sTone brothers as The Rocks, but neither of them was keen on the idea so he's brought in a big (and quite muddy) stone from the garden.

All the family is now gathered round while W describes his boat trip to the lighthouse round the treacherous Needles Rocks, listening spellbound as he relates his intrepid adventures on the voyage. 

Actually I think he's embellishing the truth a tiny bit, but he WAS very brave to venture onto the boat at all, and naturally wants to emphasise his fearless audacity on the water.

BEES' GUEST BLOG

Hello everyone, we are The Bees, Polly and Billi, and this is our Guest Blog!

Wilson showed us something in the New Scientist magazine that said flowers were now producing caffeine so that bees get addicted to it — that way the bees take less honey, but still pollinate the flowers because they're after their hit of Java!*

But we think that is a lot of nonsense — we get all the caffeine we need from the 17 or so cups we drink every day!

Anyway, what with Hallowe'en and the fact that we've been waggle-dancing non-stop we haven't had any sleep for about four days, so we're off now. 

As soon as we've had another quad espresso each.

We'll see you next month — until then, Beeeeeeeeeeeee good!

*Current Biology, DOI: 10.1016/jcub2015.08.052
Margaret Couvillon, University of Sussex

New Scientist, 24 October 2015, p16