I have rediscovered a tiny part of my childhood. In a book called Wonkybonce, by Frank Muir. I had this book when I was ye high *points*, and it was the most amazing book in the world. I wonder if I read it now, I would still think the same. I may HAVE to order it.

(You will never know just how many hours I spent tonight typing "Curlybonce" into Google and hoping it might be right. Thank god for mothers' amazing memories.)