Baby Likes Beer!

I just dipped the dummy in my pint of Murphy's before giving it to him and he finally stopped grumping. You can tut all you like. My good intentions have mostly gone out of the window over the past seven weeks. As far as I'm concerned, a good parent is one who can keep a baby quiet. Period.

His electric swinging chair arrived last Thursday although sometimes even that fails to sooth him. He isn't supposed to watch any telly until he's three. But tonight, just so we could eat, we sat him right up by the screen. The affects are already there for anyone to see. He's clearly obese and getting fatter every day. And he doesn't care what he watches either. He just stares blankly at the screen. He rarely plays outside with the other infants and his only other interests in the world are Christmas trees and lamps. Oh, and beer.

Anyway, here is the news:

• Job continues to go well. On Friday afternoon, I played Whirlyball with all the other programmers. God invented this sport to prove to geeks that he exists;
• We now have all the mod cons we need to survive: cable, broadband, a kettle and a fondue set;
• My already rusty bike is chained to the railing outside and is about to learn a whole new world of pain over the next few months;
• Our neighbours all seem to be very nice people and the recycling facilities here are the best I've ever seen outside the Netherlands;
• Fred Meyer is the local equivalent of Robert Dyas and stocks all the crap that a couple of clueless newly-weds might be fooled into purchasing. They sell adaptors for people who live in houses that have 2-pin sockets. Huzzah!