I know I have always been a little bit old before my time (I was knitting long before Madonna et al made it trendy and I always thought nightclubs were far too loud well before I hit my thirties) but this week has confirmed it.
On Monday I visited the hygienist for a routine scrape and spit. I am ashamed to say it was my first visit to her despite having moved to the area over a year ago - you know, nappy changes, vegetable blending and the entire series of West Wing all needed my attention before any thoughts could turn to dental health.
As I shimmied myself down into the dentist chair, my lovely hygienist reached behind her and flicked on Radio 4 before getting to work. How wonderful, I thought, as I relaxed back and listened to the afternoon play unfold. When I was in London, my young and vibrant hygienist would have Radio 1 blaring while he listed the bars and clubs he would soon be frequenting once he had finished chipping off the plaque from that hard to reach spot at the back of my wisdom teeth. Although I would never begrudge him his youthful exuberance, I somehow felt in better hands with a professional who prefers The Archers over RnB.
Now onto smaller matters. Since becoming a parent, ducks have become very important in my life. There is a river that runs through Wimborne (our lovely town) and there is no getting past the ducks that live on it when walking to the shops. The little man loves the quack quacks and we have to spend at least ten minutes gazing at them over the wall before I drag him away, usually kicking and screaming. So when I spot a new rubber duck on the market, my ears prick up - and I have found a good 'un. Cuddleduck is by Cuddledry (the creators of the wonderful apron towel) and comes in a glamorous gold polka dot. Go to my other blog for a quacking (sorry) review: BabyMoonBlog.