For once today has not been about writing and has been about something else entirely. I am currently almost twenty-two weeks pregnant with my second child and today I went for my scan. Now my husband and I had planned to find out what flavour baby we were having, but he has been called away with work and so he could not be there. As a compromise I got the doctor to write down the sex of the baby in a card so that we could put it on the Christmas tree and open it on Christmas morning.
That all seemed like a lovely idea at the time, but I now have in my possession the most tempting item in the world! I barely got out of the doctors office before I wanted to rip it open. Just the thought of steaming open the envelope has me hiding the iron and kettle from myself and I am truly wondering how I am going to last the next four weeks. At least I don't have the problem of getting drunk and opening it (something I would normally have done!).
I know opening the card will be the best Christmas present we could have, but in the meantime I am going to have to exert some serious self-control. I also know that after my hubby has had a bottle of wine I am probably going to have to pin him down to stop him looking early.
In the meantime, just watch this space, and start placing your bets...