1. 6am feed. Alec wriggles in close, puts his arms around his favourite right breast and shuts his eyes. Nick turns over, mutters something about wives and snuggles against me.
2. I go back to the office where I used to work with Oli, Ellie, Charlotte and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. "Your bunting is still up," they say. And I spot the whale tucked into a beam: "We don't play the Whale Game any more," says HWSNBN. I am not sure whether to believe him, as one of the lights has been mended with tape.
3. Afternoon feeds merge into each other -- Alec is having a growth spurt. I watch episode after episode of The Simpsons.