Having spent a couple of weeks trying to work and getting nothing but hangovers, I returned to the dusty rock from Gatwick to find quite a different situation. The good lady was now (nearly) the size of a Boeing 747 and the youngster seemed to have grown considerably. Not just in size but with speech and understanding. He failed however to understand that Argos had sold out of Wildmutt. Presenting me with the good argument that there is the internet!

It's getting to that nerve-racking period when anything could happen. It still has not been settled where 'Whitby' is to emerge. I'm told that as a cost effective exercise, we will get in the car, drive to the ferry and have the birthing experience in the comfy confines of the Gozo General Hospital. It's only a short distance away. Apparently so is air sea rescue but 'Thunderbirds Are Go' if there on another call! This evening we go to look at another alternative, the C-Section capital of the world, Mater Dei Hospital! It has been suggested that if we go here, there is a possibility of being automatically induced, I wondered to whom!? Actually, I think we're going to have to go private!

TheO is oblivious to it all. If anything, he has become more demanding, perhaps having an slight insight that he may lose a bit of the attention. Anyway, week 33 and the unborn at 2.5 kilo's seems to be having a right old time with visible kicks and general movement form within. TheO very much into the reinvention Ben 10 Alien Force and his recently acquired figures! He currently watches Aliens Vs Monsters and Hotel for Dogs, although obviously I don't have any copies of these!



A happy boy!... who has no idea about the realities of a little brother!