And she says I'm a softie

This morning there was a little more nip in the air and as Lucy's hats from last winter are mostly outgrown, Hayley decided to seek one out with her.

Despite the fact that we are in period of post-wedding fiscal belt-tightening, Hayley managed to justify to herself splashing out no less that 10 quid on this hat from Monsoon.

Of course were I to have taken Lucy out I'd have been as strict as strict can be and there would have been absolutely no chance of me coming home with not only the hat but any number of other Monsoon offerings in which my daughter would look just adorable. No, not a chance. I have will power you see. And just so long as I'm banned by my wife from taking my daughter into Monsoon for fear of financial meltdown, that's my story and I'll be sticking to it.

A short essay on time

Time is not linear.

Remember how long summers were when you were a kid? Long.
Now they shoot past, right? Right.

But that's nothing. If you want to see how fast time can fly, watch the clock in the run-up to your wedding. I reckon not even Einstein could explain how the time is disappearing so fast. And the faster it flies, the more there seems to be left to do.

Of course I can't complain as Hayley has done the VAST majority of the wedding preparations. Nonetheless I can't quite believe the wedding will take place a month tomorrow.

Anyway, tonight Hayley has been to her dress fitting. Then she went to the pub. Not sure what to make of that.

Tomorrow Oliver and I will be fitted up for our suits. Can't wait to see the little man dressed up to the nines!

And now I'm off to bed (before its time to rise and shine).

The Dress - No image available

The wedding dress has been ordered.

Hayley has spent a lot, hell ALL her spare time recently looking for her wedding dress. Bridal shops, wedding fares and retail outlets all got a look-in. And as these places don't allow kids to come in and wreck their expensive gowns, I have been able to spend some quality Daddy time with both kids.

Of course, I haven't been allowed to see anything to do with the dress so there is absolutely no chance of a photo here. Nor of the dresses for the flower girls which will also remain a carefully kept secret until the big day.

Come as you are

This morning Oliver got up and decided that he wanted to dress up in Mummy's "Tiger" shirt which lives in his dressing up box. Once I had put it on him he announced that he wasn't Oliver he was Tiger.

He then insisted on keeping it on, over his regular shirt, even when he went to nursery. He looked a bit like Demis Roussos circa 1976. He wore it there all morning and was still wearing it when Hayley picked him up at lunchtime. In fact, he still had it on when I went to meet my family at Room 311 around 5.30pm.

But he was such a good little chap this evening that when he asked if he could wear it in bed I said yes. So he is now asleep in his tiger shirt as his pyjama top.

Not sure what I'll do if he wants it on again tomorrow. He could end up like those people who always wear the same coat, you know the kind, usually an Afghan jacket smelling of scented oils and looking like it first saw light of day around Woodstock. Come to think of it, his hair is getting kind of long too...