The problem with internet hoaxes is that they're just not as reliable a source of betting information as you might think. The Daily Telegraph reported on Friday that £40,000 had been wagered on Amy Adams winning the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress after the results were supposedly leaked online. Suffice it to say that without my input, that headline would have read £39,996. Bang goes Amelie's college fund. Not that she'd have got far on four quid.

But who needs money when you've got friends...


The hoodie with the ASBO is Amelie, and the girl she's assaulting is the lovely Leia. Back in September, Leia lent Amelie her Moses basket, on condition that we return it if her Mummy ever falls pregnant again. That was six months ago. So we went around there yesterday to hand back the basket and look at Lorraine's bump.

Baby number two is due in May, so Lorraine's obviously grown a lot since I last saw her, but her ballooning abdomen pales into insignificance next to that of her cat. I haven't seen that loveable rogue Timmy for more than a year, but on 17th January 2008 I tactfully described him as being the size of a space hopper, and like a beach ball with fur. Suffice it to say that things have changed a lot since then. He now looks like a hippo wrapped in a rug.

Here's the Timster three and a half years ago, back in those carefree cat-sitting days when my biggest worry in life was how to stop him eating my bagels, jumping into the washing machine, and throwing up on the table...


And here he is yesterday, too ashamed to look at the camera...


The irony is that (a) he actually looks a lot fatter in real life, and (b) Lorraine says he's lost weight recently. Presumably because his feet no longer touched the floor and he couldn't walk to the kitchen.

Anyhoo, I expect Timmy's on a diet. Although you wouldn't have thought so by the way he tucked into Lisa's carrot cake the moment she turned her back. But Tubby Tim aside, we spent an enjoyable couple of hours getting a glimpse of our future as we watched Leia crawling around the living room at high speed, and doing her best to grab DVDs, cameras, laptops, and anything worth more than a hundred quid. Frankly the only items she didn't want to play with were her toys.

In return we allowed Lorraine and her fiancé to see into their future, by generously filling the house with the sound of a second crying baby. I'm not sure which of us felt more depressed. It's no wonder Timmy turned to food.