"Another Saturday night and I ain't got no Boddies..."

Our Saturday night out last week was a trip to the big Borders bookshop in Stockport. It's one of those sprawling affairs with room to swing a colony of feral cats, comfortable sofas dotted around the floor and a mezzanine floor housing a Starbucks just in case the need for corporeal sustenance should make you consider the terrifying possibility of leaving this haven of havens and returning to the lesser luxury of home.

We arrived around 7.30pm. Hayley's early anxiety was quickly calmed by immediately seeking out an assistant who assured her that yes, they were open until 10pm. Thank goodness. For a minute there I thought we were going to have to go direct to Starbucks without even the pretence of being there to buy books.

I won't bore you with the details of the techy book I bought, but after perhaps half an hour of independent browsing we rendez-voused near the "baby" section, by which time Hayley had acquired a "baby's first book" (made from soft fabric) and also a rattle.

She was also perusing "Your Baby and Child" by Penelope Leach. After reading this myself for a while, the temptation to buy it proved too great (although I bought it online from Amazon later and saved £10), so it has now been added to the small armoury of self-help books about pregnancy and babies that is building on our bookshelf. (Actually in truth most of them can be found in the bathroom or by the bed, but you get the picture.)

To be fair some of them seem very good (he says as if he knows!). "What to expect when you're expecting" seems to be one of the standard texts. We also have "Conception, Pregnancy and Birth" by Miriam Stoppard, although our edition is a few years old (cue mild panic at the thought that we might be reading laughably outdated ideas that haven't kept up with the latest medical practices and theories about what is best in this situation that is as old as woman herself!) And perhaps most useful of all is the NHS booklet from the midwife.

That's not to mention all the books you can get that exclusively address conception. For a couple of months before conception, Hayley had been reading "Getting Pregnant", though I didn't really get chance to read much of it myself. We were mercifully spared the stress (agony even) of those would-be parents who find their entire lives start to revolve around the menstrual cycle, determining the exact time of ovulation and the best way to maximise the chance of conception.

Anyway, back in Borders we took the opportunity to enjoy a light beverage ("cafe mocha with whipped cream for me, a decaff' latte with skimmed milk for the lady...") before retiring home.

Which brings me to the title of this entry. For those who don't get it, "Boddies" is short for Boddingtons, a famous Manchester beer. I've noticed that I don't really fancy alcoholic beverages so much these days. Admittedly on the rare occasions I open a bottle of ChateauNeuf du Pape it is unlikely there will be much left for the following evening. But apart from this the occasional bottle of beer or late night Islay malt whisky is about my limit these days. It could be down to sympathy with Hayley. But I've a sneaking suspicion it's more a subconscious desire to retain control in the face the enormous responsibility that comes closer every week and which I greet with equal amounts of joy, respect and primal panic.