The guy who mentioned his chef was on maternity leave and her baby was Audrey took a photo of my Audrey to show his Audrey's mom. They even look a bit similar (The Audreys, not the guy and Audrey, or my Audrey and his Audrey's mom. This is getting ridiculous). Anyway, we now have a new talking point for her name. Not so much the "Oh, Audrey after Audrey Hepburn?!" but the "Oh, and you'll never believe..."
Urrrgh.
Today a lovely friend dropped in. She brought lovely presents; for me (revitalising facial masques), for Audrey (a little red dress, citrine crystals, a capital "A"and her first lovingly made flashcard - in purple glitter letters), for the pug (a chicken stick wrapped in pig hide) and for afternoon tea. Lovely chats ensued, cuddles were had, and then she asked to see the nursery. Off we went... and returned to a scene of gluttony and devastation. Thinking, perhaps, that we weren't so interested in the slice of cheesecake, the slice of something else yummy, and the macaroon remaining on the coffee table, the pug helped herself. To all of it. She's in a sugar coma now.
How to know your husband's really into this dad gig: when he presents his nose to a hungry, rooting baby just to see if she'll latch on. She did. Then she growled. I think the fur baby and the human baby have a little confusion. I think my darling husband may be suffering from slightly greater delusions. I think I needed the sugar fix more than the pug, but that I may settle for watching a movie in a facial masque. Glamorous Saturday night, huh?
