Tim Tam World

Another check-up with the illustrious Dr Turner. As usual I was in his rooms for a total of 400 seconds during which time he reviewed my notes, did an ultrasound, confirmed the Carving-Knife date and, horror of horrors, told me not to eat so much.

I have put on a shocking 4kg in 5 weeks, and realise that this goes totally against my so-called determined stance not to put on as much weight as last time, a total of 28 kilos which took me bloody ages to shift off again. I'm five foot ten, so I don't look impossibly out of proportion, but I do look about 2 months more pregnant than I really am. My rings and shoes no longer fit, and I feel disgustingly bloated. It's all self-inflicted as I've had a mad phase on those cursed Tim Tams. Damn you Arnotts for your "Dangerous Liaisons" range, with the truffle ones, the caramel ones, and the double coat chocolate ones.

However, so in awe of Dr Turner am I that not a single Tim Tam has passed my lips since his warning. (He once told me during the last pregnancy that he would be "after me with a big stick" if I did not take my iron supplement. My God, the image of him coming after me armed with even a paperclip would be sufficient threat).

Anyway, the baby is fine, it appears, though it has a large stomach. On a good pasture, like its mother.