Millie the Minion

A smiling baby girl with a Minion toy.

Amelie is now three months old and all the clichés about the fleeting nature of time have been proved right. She has been changing a little every day, dropping little hints as to what her personality is going to be like when she’s older and giving us lovely toothless smiles at a rate of knots. If early indications are anything to go by Millie, as we sometimes call her for short, is going to end up working for a kind-hearted super villain. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Millie the Minion.

The first things that led me to this foolproof theory are her early attempts at talking to us. She makes a wide range of nonsensical sounds, her favourites of which she repeats throughout the day – and she sounds just like the Tumblin’ Stuart toy Dylan and Xander got for Christmas. She also laughs at things that aren’t funny. Silly baby.

In further support of my belief that we have one of Gru’s assistants on our hands, she punctuates every day with a series of loud farts. Dylan and Xander could both be relied upon to let rip regularly as babies – being little boys, of course, they still do – but they have never achieved the decibel level or slapstick sound effects that their baby sister has already reached at such a tender age.

There’s more evidence too. Last week she had her second round of jabs. As soon as she had them, she started making lots of noise and temporarily changed hue as a result. Just like when the Minions get turned into little monsters in Despicable Me 2. Amazing, right? I can’t think of another credible explanation for why she would behave in such a way in such a situation.

As if all that isn’t enough, she can already wave back when people greet her. Is she really advanced or is it just a nod to the “Queen wave” bit in last year’s Minions film? I know what I think.

It remains to be seen whether she’ll one day request a pair of goggles and some blue dungarees, but I think it’s just a matter of time. Plus, I’m sure she’ll like bananas once she’s allowed to eat them.

Or it could be that she’s just a normal baby and it’s high time I wrote something daft and whimsical about her as it’s a rite of passage for my children to be affectionately compared to something not quite flattering.

I’ll let you decide…

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  1. Pingback: This is going to drive me bananas - Family life - Diary of the Dad

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