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Who's the daddy?

I am. Happy

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All change, please...

I guess I should offer an explanation for my near two-month absence. Apologies aplenty will follow once I’ve got my thinly-veiled attempt of an excuse out of the way.

It all started one day near a public toilet in Paddington Station a few weeks ago. Whilst you’re probably thinking that I was ready to commence an act of George Michaelesque indecency, I was actually looking for something else - namely platform nine and three quarters*, Paddington Bear and sushi. I found two out of the three, but instead of finding owls, wizards and Robbie Coltrane, I discovered something of greater significance.

One usually visits a public toilet in order to perform their ablutions when in dire need. A public toilet is not the throne of choice, especially as it costs thirtty pence for the privilege. There’s nothing like your own, as they say - and that could not ring more true today, but needs must when the devil squeezes your bladder.

I sat on the concourse bench just outside the conveniences and waited. I should add that the bench was not my throne of choice, merely a place to pass the time whilst I waited for somebody else. And lo, a few minutes later, a pink-haired figure walked towards me with a piece of plastic in her hand, the sort of plastic that I am reliably informed is the most advanced piece of technology that one can urinate on. The pink-haired lady showed me the window. Urine dribbled down the stick. Advanced technology it may be, watertight it aint.

“It’s a positive”, she said.

And at that moment, a smile popped on my face, as I realised I was going to become a father. A provisional date of the 29th of November has been given**. Expect to be bored with more info shortly.

Sorry for being slack.

*OK, Pedants - I know Harry Potter was at Kings Cross Station, but really, I don’t give a jewel-encrusted arse.
**No, smart-arse - the wee-stick isn’t that good. That’s something called a midwife - they don’t require batteries. Well, perhaps just when they’re off duty.
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