… and chew.
Greetings from rural Staffordshire. Local weight: 12 stone 10 pounds (178 lbs / 80.7 kg). In-laws bathroom scales possibly over-weighing by a handful of pounds?
My weekend plans (XXL on Saturday night, London Open House and London Zoo Gay Day on Sunday) had a last-minute change when Dr B.'s parents had a bit of a computer problem that maimed their eBay empire and could potentially hinder the UK economy.
I thought I'd stay behind, but was reminded that I need to clock a few more Parent Hours if I want to increase my chances to be summoned to spend Christmas with them and not be The Little Boy that Santa Claus Forgot.
So we set off on a brand new Virgin Pendolino (thirty-five-f***ing-pounds for a 75 minute trip, don't you just love British trains?) on our journey to the land that calorie counting forgot.
Seeing Mummy and Daddy B. is good. How couldn't it be - all I am required to do here is sit in front of the telly while Mummy B. comes in with freshly baked bread with melted butter on top. Twice. Before dinner. And there are fluffy cats to stroke.
Meanwhile, Dr B. quickly fixed his parents' machine. The BIOS had somehow forgotten that it had a hard disk to connect to, on top of the floppy, CD and DVD drives. The BIOS was promptly renamed after Mummy B.'.s friend with Alzheimer who tells her 'I know you come and visit me often, and it's nice, love, but I have absolutely no idea who you are'.
I'll have to go now: the Thai feast on its way downstairs requirest my presence.
I can see myself getting used to this eating thing they do up here.