April
2006
Official: Babies don’t like terrorists
So I raced back from Singapore last night so that I could spend the weekend with S in all her pregnantess. Saturday morning I’m downstairs procrastinating online when I hear S’s telephone upstairs ring.
Saturday morning not yet eight am — a bad sign. A few minutes later I hear the sluggish steps of somebody who’d really rather still be comatose — a worse sign. Then S meekly walks down the stairs, slides over behind me and nuzzles my neck — Alert, alert — danger Will Robinson. — Then she mumbles “I love you … but…”
Needless to say, a current turn of world events has taken a turn for the worse (only bad news ruins weekends — I challenge any journalist out there to give me an example of a Good News Story that was deemed so important the office called them in) and S’s employer required her presence in there.
What made me grumpier was that S almost encouraged them to ask her in — in fact I don’t think I’d be wrong if she volunteered to go in. All I can say if I hope the little monster inherits my work ethic…
The Indonesian police had cornered “Asia’s most wanted” and were on the cusp of catching the guy — but in the end, he got away. There you go I told the story in one line –why does it take all day to write that?
Anyway, I’ll stop moaning now, I’ve got precious little baby news as the baby was busy at the office writing about terrorists — according to S, the baby doesn’t like terrorists.
I meanwhile swam, drank too much coffee, watched some bad tv and designed our propaganda department, which you can see here.
S and I chatted little during the day, primarily due to my sulking, so when she got home there had been no real negotiation over food. I prepared a pretty yummy potato, chicken and broccoli gratin, which S in an outstanding display of impatience insisted on eating before it was finished.
Her words of love just before we ate:
“You smell really awful.”