It's lunchtime and, less than 24 hours from now, Jamie and I will be in Northern Ireland on a boys' trip home.
The reason is two-fold; first, it's my dad's 74th birthday on Friday and a small celebration is planned.
And second, the two of us thought we deserved a break before the three-piece White family becomes a four-piece on or around the 19th of next month.
Jamie's quite relaxed about that prospect at the present time; as far he's concerned, he's getting a baby for Christmas and, well, that's about as complicated as it gets (so long as he also gets some chocolate).
And for me, it's a case of getting my "I'm About To Be A Daddy Again" head on - which basically involves preparing myself not to sleep for another couple of years.
The absence of her boys will also give Vanessa - who may have quite a pivotal role to play during the birth itself - a chance to put her feet up (and hopefully do a load of cleaning. And washing. Sadly, she doesn't do ironing).
As ever (and whether you want me to or not), I will tell and show you what my boy and I get up to between now and Sunday evening.
But, off the top of my head, my guess is that Jamie will do a lot of this...
...whilst his daddy will drink a lot of this.
Slainte
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