The trouble with not blogging for four days is that people are going to think Lisa's gone into labour, and I'm hanging about with hot towels at the hospital. Fortunately that's not the case. Although we did think the baby was coming last night. I'd explain why, but I don't want to put anyone off their dinner.

As it happens, I've had a busy few days. Sunday was spent turning the airing cupboard into a nappy storage area, whilst simultaneously tending to Lisa, who went out on Saturday night to meet her sister, strolled two hundred yards down the road, and promptly walked into a bench. Apparently she didn't see it coming. Which is particularly ironic as it was right outside the Sussex Eye Hospital. Lisa's been waiting for her pregnancy to enter a purple patch, and finally it's here - just below her left knee, and very painful to touch. So when people talk about Lisa's bump, they're no longer referring to the baby.

As for Monday, that saw the third of our four HypnoBirthing classes in Lewes. The course leader was slightly concerned that our baby might refuse to stay inside Lisa for another week, so she decided to cover the breathing techniques required for birth. I proved to be particularly good at it, so labour should be a breeze for me.

We were also told about a restaurant in America where they can apparently induce labour using nothing but an aubergine. And not by sticking it where you might imagine. You actually put it in the oven. So if there's no sign of a baby by October, I'll be spending my paternity leave in the kitchen.

Yesterday's excitement was a visit from my mother, who came down to Brighton on behalf of my brother. As the owner of this flat, he's naturally keen to find out just how much money he's lost in the recent property crash, so he sent my Mum to meet a few estate agents for some inside information. Having shown three of them around my flat, the good news is that if my brother had sold it eighteen months ago, he'd have made enough profit to buy his own island in the sun. The bad news is he'd now be lucky to get a copy of The Sun. But hey, I'm still glad I moved here, and that's what counts.

Anyhoo, back in April I mentioned chatting about babies with an I.T. trainer who knew someone who'd fainted at a scan. Well, five months on, she's handed in her notice and is off to work at a branch of Lloyds (the pharmacy, not the bank). That's the bad news. The good news is that we got to say goodbye to her via the medium of free pizza and cake. I spent most of today handing out cancer drugs whilst surrounded by balloons, streamers and Pizza Hut boxes. I almost had to answer the phone halfway through a lemon meringue pie.

But when the lady left at half past four, she said that if the people at her next job are half as nice as us, she'll be very happy. She then told me to keep her updated on the baby, and promptly burst into tears. I felt like doing the same. No one brings in cakes like she does. I'm going to miss her terribly.