Amelie turned to me yesterday and said "Daddy, you've got the fattest tummy in the whole world". I was tempted to tell her that she needs to watch a few more documentaries on Channel 5 before making an assertion like that, but instead I replied "Have I??", with a expression of mild incredulity. She responded by lifting up my shirt and saying "See?".

I think that was the moment when I decided we ought to go home. In the three weeks leading up to Toby's birth, I actually lost half a stone in weight, although I don't think anyone noticed. Probably because it was like a centipede losing a leg. Unfortunately, with my work routine on hold, and energy at a premium, I've been filling the gaps with food, and replacing lettuce leaves with lard. By the time we arrived at my parents' house on Saturday, a lot of my good work had already been undone, and by yesterday it was not so much undone as destroyed. My Mum kindly offered me healthy food, but I went with the ice cream option instead.

So we left St Leonards yesterday, and returned to the empty fridges of Brighton for a bit of a detox. Things are naturally a lot more austere around here, and it's not easy for any of us. Amelie had only been up for a couple of hours this morning when she sighed loudly and told us that it's much more fun at Grandma & Grandad's because they have Tom & Jerry DVDs. I told her to shut up and watch her painting dry.

To be honest, if anyone's got it tough, it's me. I managed to leave my camera at my parents' house, so I'm unable to take any photos until I can summon the energy to look for my old one. And that's not likely to happen until the kids leave home.

Fortunately, however, I do have a photo supplied by someone else...

That's Tilly, formerly known as Bad Eye. Or was it Good Walker? It's so hard to keep track of your grandchildren. Especially when they all look the same. Either way, it's the kitten adopted by H (not from Steps), and she appears to be doing well. Although she's ruining that kitchen roll holder.