Tuesday night, and Mistress P's canoe polo friends were gathering to have a quiet beer in-lieu-of game (it being Easter and all that, the comp was off), and hence we tootled on up to sleepy North Boring(/Balwyn) to check out the action.
Baby action that is.
We arrived to be greeted by a bleary eyed teammate (Damo) and his equally, if not more so, bleary eyed ambulance-driver wife, plus the source of the bleary-eye-edness; young Jonathon.
Jonathon was born on April 4, two days earlier than expected, after mum went into labour on April 3; i.e., Rufous' due date.
And then it hit us.
Jonathon was "younger" than Rufous.
But while Jono was "out", Ruf was still "in". (Mums tum that is.)
It was (almost) enough to make AB burst into a rendition of "On the inside the sun still shines..." (a.k.a the Prisoner theme song). And certainly sobering enough for both Mistress P and AB to foregoe the beers and opt for the Milo. (Literally.)
The following day a letter arrived saying that a wee-wee test of Mistress P's needed to be repeated, so this was taken as an excuse to do a "dry" run to the horse-piddle.
AB went into action mode.
"Bags in..."
Check.
"Pillows in..."
Check.
"Food in..."
Check.
Set stopwatch.
GO!
We took alternative route A, which saw the Suby swing into Caradigan St Carlton (i.e., the Royal Wimmens emergency enterance) exactly 35 minutes later, with AB having a) performed the appropriate "long loose fingers, slack jaw, shoulders down" relaxation mantra for Mistress P at suitable intervals on the way, and b) "enjoyed" the Immaculate Collection (Best of Madonna) CD for the duration. (But was later sprung humming "Into the groove" quite subconsciously...)
And best of all without losing the patient(s). Mistress P was very happy. For a moment.
"So did you bring the list of things to do?"
AB: "Errr..... what list??"
The wee-wee test was done without mishap, and then it was off to lunch in the old courting ground (Lygon St) where Mistress P (and AB) was welcomed, prodigal son-like (it had been several years), by Alex the waiter from Papa Ginos.
Ahhh... it was just like being a student again. Only now we could afford to tip. (Clever Alex.)
So no baby yet, though the immediacy of Ruf's arrival has been clarified by Thursday lunchtimes (pie and) Strawberry Big M... No, nothing to do with milk dribbling down bikini-cleavage (ahh... those 1970's calendars...), rather the carton had a use-by date of April 22, which is 5 days after April 17 - Mistress Ps's birthday and current date of inducement. (Though we'll see what the doc says about that on our horse-piddle visit tomorrow (Fri).)
This was a nice, albeit subtle, reminder that Ruf, by (amniotic) hook or by crook, is less than a milk curdle away from joining Jono and us,...
"On the outside".
(MMmmmm..... flavoured milk,.... MMmmmmm Big M.) Print this post
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