Dear Bump, when the sperm that made you was part of me you may have heard me think that your mum could do with losing a few pounds. It’s the only way I can rationalise the amount of vomiting you’re putting her through.

Stand down soldier, you don’t have to do anything to impress me. Just turn up in one piece and that will do, so leave off your mum and let her keep some food down please. French toast is hardly a luxury food and she’s got enough to worry about just now, thinking about if she should get the H151 jab or not, worried about what it might do to you.

And besides, on the food front, I’m dying to go out for a decent curry.

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