We go to the Hospital.

This is because they need to scan periodically to check that the baby is still in the LTLP, rather than because I am ill, e.g. with the lurgee. Although I have been coughing and sniffling over the past few days.

I think I might have had that avian flu thing, or maybe the 1918 Spanish version that they recently re-created in an American Government laboratory, despite security fears that it might be stolen and fall into the hands of fundamentalists and warmongers (note sophisticated political satire, truly I am the Peter Cook of my generation). Mothers-to-be glare at me and cover their bumps as I spread infection and phlegm round the waiting room.

The Stenographer Lady works at her black and white screen, cheerful as always, although I would be as well if my job was just like sitting down and playing 1980’s arcade game ‘Asteroids’ all day, but for free and with women undressing. She does lots of measuring. Then she turns to us and breaks the news.

My baby has a big head!!!

Whereas the child itself is developed as is normal for (x) weeks, his/her head is of the dimensions that is normal for (x+1) weeks!!! I stagger back at the revelation.

It has already been demonstrated, very early in this body of writing, that I – its father – do not have a big head. Yet here is this woman – a professional – demonstrating large headdom in my infant.

I steal a glance at the LTLP. She does not look guilty and unfaithful. But if she has been secretly having affairs with large-headed men behind my back then I will be cross.

I ponder this on the way home, all sorts of thoughts going round my (normal sized) mind.