A face like a dad

Home again to an empty house I'm afraid. S and Fionn are overnighting once more in Holles St, although they at least have been afforded the dignity of a private room, which is a huge relief.

Things I completely wasn't expecting fatherhood to bring:

• An irrational and overwhelming urge to protect my child - I have now twice suspected two perfectly lovely and helpful nurse/midwives of trying to poison him.
• A trawl through the musical back-catalogue of my mind - Fionn especially seems to like Oasis classics such as "Champagne Supernova" sung to him while having his nappies changed. Odd.

I'm sure there's more, but it's far too late...