Hi honey, I'm home.
I'll tell you something, all this 'just relaxing' really takes it out of you.
We just relaxed up and down Oxford street and along the South bank. We just relaxed around Soho and all it's bookshops. We just relaxed through some finger nibbling fish & chips with mushy peas and we just relaxed big time through a truly poor West end show.
In between all the just relaxing we did manage to put our feet up. Well, okay, ET had her feet up.
Incidentally, is it too much to ring down to reception to ask for an extra pillow for buttock elevation?
You could just use one of the ones provided but you run the risk of them getting mixed up when the room is cleaned the next day, and no chap likes wake up with his pillow sticking to his face.
Anyway, should wonders truly exist and she's miraculously gotten knocked up this weekend, we have decided to shun the recent celebrity trend to name children after where they were conceived.
Baby 'Room 387' does have a ring to it though, I must admit.
Have I mentioned we have the small matter of an appointment with the specialist on Wednesday?
Oh I have? Oh well, tough luck.
We're ready for her, every detail double checked, every eventuality accounted for, right down to the bail money should one of us be overcome with the urge to assault her with her dildo-cam.
Wednesday seems like an awfully long way away right now.
I could do with a wee distraction.