At our weekly catch up, my friends turned our conversation to babysitting when I recalled the first time I babysat my grandson.

Arriving at my daughter's house I barely got my foot over the door when she handed me a large sheet of paper with a list as long as your arm of do’s and dont’s.

Don’t let him get too hot.

Don’t let him get too cold.

Check the temperature of his milk before giving it to him.

Bath him at 8.30pm as this sends him to sleep.

Give him…..check him….. feed him…….don’t do this…..

The blinkin list seemed endless.

“Jenna,” I stated the obvious.

“I have had a baby myself you know.”

“I know mum, but things have changed.”

And I wondered what had changed because a baby’s needs are a baby’s needs.

“You probably behaved the same with your first born,” my friend Mae pointed out.

Instantly I remembered the first night I left my son overnight with my mum and dad.

I packed four sets of clothes, ten nappies, a bottle of pre-boiled water and six bottles of pre-made baby milk.

“What on earth?,” my dad said he couldn't believe the amount of stuff I had packed for one tiny baby.

“Yer mum and I had one bottle for six of you.”

I think he was exaggerating slightly, but I got the point.

"I’ve said a dozen times it’s much easier looking after pets,” Christine laughed.

“In fact, my neighbours are on holiday and I agreed to feed their pets so why don’t you come with me?,” she offered.

Despite being allergic to most pets, I decided to keep my pal company.

“Apparently they have a cat and some rabbits,” Christine announced as she unlocked the back door of her neighbours house.

“And they’ve left me a list of instructions.”

Sure enough Christine spotted a large sheet of paper covered in scribbles and began to read out loud.

“Abbey is our pussy cat and is on the 2D Diet so should only get half a tin of food with a wee handful of biscuits.”

“2D Diet?” I had never heard of a cat being on a diet as Christine continued.

“Don’t panic if she is sick as she’s not well and has a long term condition, hence the shaved abdomen.”

Christine and I stared in silence at each other before searching for the cat with the shaved abdomen.

Cat fed, Christine unfolder her long list of instructions again.

“There is fresh veg in the fridge for Buns who is the smallest rabbit.”

We scanned all the different bunnies and tried to work out which was the smallest, which wasn’t an easy task as the bunnies were nervously hopping and darting everywhere in the kitchen, laundry room and in various pens in the back garden.

“Watch when you open that back door.” The instructions read.

“As Connie, which is a brown Lionhead likes to shoot in.”

“Lionhead?,” I looked at my pal.

“How the hell are we meant to know what a Lionhead rabbit looks like?”

But Christine was busy reading.

“You might want to shut the kitchen door while the back door is open.”

We were confused as to which doors to open or close and had no clue as to which rabbit was where.

“When you open the enclosure gate Babybell and Connie may try to swap enclosures.”

Completely baffled I asked.

“Which one is Babybell and which one is Connie?”

My pal was as bewildered as me and kept repeating the instructions over and over in the hope that some of it would make sense.

“Janice, according to this there is hay and nuggets behind the kitchen door.”

I grabbed what I could find but had no clue which rabbit was supposed to get what as my pal added more mumbo jumbo.

“”Jay, who is white and brown needs to stay on his own as he has not bonded with the others yet and is very nervous of humans and may lunge at you.”

“Janice, she’s even drawn a sad face on the instructions.”

But I was more concerned about a lunging rabbit!

“Jack Reilly is the lovely soft albino and enjoys a nose rub and loves his greens.”

“Seriously?”

“Loves a nose rub and…..” I couldn’t get my head around all this pet kafuffle.

Meanwhile Christine was desperately trying to unravel the mystery of the next message.

“Jay is out instead of Babybell just now and if he goes in his hutch, which is in the bike shed near the back gate, you should block off the tunnel at the side.”

Christine’s face said it all.

”But if Jay stays in, let Babybell out of her hutch, which is the penthouse at the back fence.”

That was enough for me and I gave up trying to decipher the goings on.

“Christine,” I interrupted my pal.

“What with shaved cats, lunging rabbits, penthouse hutches and albino nose rubs.”

I shook my head.

“Give me babies any day.”