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Wednesday, November 23, 2005

No sign of the baby yet. I've been doing my best to help by shouting "IT'S THE BAYBEEEEEE!!!" in a panic-stricken voice every time the phone rings, but sadly it never is. Lisa's sister is still refusing to uncross her legs and let it out. But with the due splashdown date only a week away now, my money's on a weekend birth. Which will annoy Lisa, who's hoping for a day off work.

We may not have heard from little Wilma yet (mine and Lisa's choice of baby name - sadly no one's backing us up on this one so far), but I have had an e-mail from my old school chum Emma, who I haven't seen for more than 12 years, but who has finally tracked me down via the magic of Google. It's like Friends Reunited around here. But without the relentless false claims of success and happiness. Although I will be replying to Em in a moment to tell her just how fantastically well I'm doing. And then hoping to win the lottery tonight so I can back up my claims. I'll also be consulting a solicitor this afternoon in case she tries to sue for breach of copyright over Phact #63. Although I should add that this phact is no longer true since I took possession of Lisa's Fire Extinguisher Training Certificate.

Anyhoo, the good news is that having spent another 3 hours in the gift shops of Brighton yesterday afternoon, I've managed to lay my hands on a further four Christmas presents. I also resisted the temptation to buy some Christmas lights in the shape of plastic bunny rabbits, and spent the same amount of money on Lisa's Christmas card as I did on an entire pack of cards for everyone else. Which either demonstrates how expensive Lisa's was, or how cheap the others were. Frankly it's the latter. But it's the thought that counts.

Today got off to a joyful start when I drove Lisa to work and saw a man hit by a car on the other side of the road. He didn't seem to be moving much, but on the plus side, it was only half a mile from the hospital. I was naturally sympathetic, but he was less than 50 yards from a pedestrian crossing, the speed limit's 30mph, and he was hit right next to a speed camera, so frankly the man's an idiot. But obviously I hope he gets well soon.

Right, I'd better get off the internet and back to work. I'm currently in the middle of fitting a lock to Lisa's bedroom door to stop her 2-year-old nephew running in and eating her make-up. Which is good news for her, but bad news for him. He's developed quite a taste for the Max Factor range, so he won't be happy.