That Time Of Year Again

I almost forgot this so big thanks to both Strickers and Fiver for reminding me that today is one of the greatest days in the Plymouth local calendar. 

Yes, it's the day of the "Baby of The Year" supplement in the Evening Herald - where thousands of parents enter photos of their beloved children in the hope of winning a family holiday to a caravan park and a teddy.

I'm not exaggerating when I say looking through the pictures is one of my favourite pastimes EVER.

First of all, there's the interesting selection of names - some I like, some... Well, not so much. 

And yes, you've got the typically cute ones. They're alright. But then you've got the ones pulling funny faces. Believe me, there is not a lot funnier than a tiny baby poking their tongue out. Then there's those babies that are about three days old, with more hair than Justin Bieber. I LOVE this. Extra points also for cheerers or wavers.

I'm honestly not being sarcastic. It's no secret that any children of mine are going to be blessed (or cursed, depending on how you look at it) with brilliantly offbeat names, and I don't care what anyone says (even my husband). I'm telling you now, I would actually question science if me and Mr G do not one day have a huge baby that looks like Winston Churchill with an Afro. If that time ever comes, you bet he or she will be gracing the pages of BOTY.

Any child with no hair but wearing a hairband is automatically disqualified from my poll (sorry but it's not right) and sadly, this year that appears to have reduced the numbers quite significantly, but after much deliberation I am thrilled to announce I am backing baby 1385, the phenomenal Rupert Merrifield!

NB Whilst this blog appears on the thisisplymouth website, I am in no way associated with the competition and the views expressed here are my own.