With just four days to go until D-Day (the D is for Due), everything seems to be falling into place. For a start, I've found a way to raise some much needed extra cash after the baby's born. I'm going to send Lisa to Flu Camp. She can stay in a hotel for a couple of weeks, watch a bit of TV, and if she survives, she'll leave with three grand in her back pocket. My parents can look after the baby while she's gone.

As for Amelie, she's dead easy to care for. I've been given sole responsibility for her welfare throughout August, which sounds like a daunting task, but with impeccable timing, we've discovered a new drug which keeps her permanently docile and under control. It's called Netflix.

Lisa signed up for a free month's trial about five weeks ago - a trial which she subsequently forgot to cancel - so in a fit of guilt, she's spent the past week trying to find stuff to watch, in a vain attempt to get her money's worth. She started looking for children's programmes at the weekend, shortly after which she realised we could get Netflix on the iPad, and the rest, as they say, is history.

I downloaded the Netflix app on Monday night, and Amelie's barely turned on the TV since. She learnt how to use it in about five seconds flat, and has spent the past forty-eight hours choosing her own programmes and watching them on the sofa. I keep expecting the cable company to phone up and ask why we haven't had CBeebies on all day. Lisa and I are watching grown-up TV shows before 7pm for the first time in three years.

Amelie's current Netflix obsession is Wonder Pets, an Emmy Award winning animation about a trio of heroic pets who save baby animals whilst singing songs about teamwork. It's basically Bagpuss the opera. According to Wikipedia, "Completing each episode takes thirty-three weeks from script to final delivery", which, given that they've made 42 shows, suggests they've been working on it since the eighties. I think that might be misleading.

But the result is that Amelie's gone from being the kind of whirling dervish who makes the Tasmanian Devil look lethargic, to a quiet, well-behaved little girl who sits on the sofa, glued to the iPad. It's probably stunting her intellectual growth, ruining her eyesight and making her fat, but we can deal with that in September.