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Sadly, poor wean has succumbed to a nasty chest infection, care of some unknown entity (JG coffcoffcoff!) leaving him with the kind of bronchial hack one normally associates with a fifty-a-day Woodbine habit. This has added to his already exotic and extensive repertoire of alien, animal and indeed, alien animal noises with which he regales us throughout the night. I should build a hide out of muslin and soiled diapers in the corner of the room and observe him undetected, but that would be silly, not to mention deeply unpleasant.
Next week we will attempt our first cross country sojourn mit baby, to introduce him to his cousins. I am confidant this will all go without a hitch, no really!
B
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