Shall I Drive?

With only eight weeks to go, we are now faced with the Double Whammy: she won't drink and she can't drive.

Up to now, pregnancy had sorted out the Shall I Drive? question. Early on, PP chose not to drink alcohol. Hey Presto! We drive out for supper, she drives back because she is sober.

Now, with Tobbles occupying a good half of the driving seat, she cannot drive anyway. Bugger. We're both sober.

Pregnancy is dang hard.

Mine's a large one, hers is enormous

There's nothing like a doting grandfather-to-be, and my father is absolutely nothing like a doting grandfather-to-be.

Fair play, he is already a grandfather four times over, so I guess it's not an entirely new experience. Still as his favourite and only son, I was hoping for slightly more excitement when he met PP and Tobbles as the bump has now become.

I think the main impact is that there is slightly less drain on the gin stores while PP is not drinking. Good for him; someone has to keep a sense of proportion.

Mine's a large one, hers is enormous.