chez babs

It's Mick Jones' wedding this weekend *and* the newly-pregnant/engaged Hannae is over from Oslo so we opt to split; the anas lord it up in London Town and I take the monkey on the train to sunny Folkestone.

As I can't really remember what we ate, I'll just give you the milos weekend eating plan:

weekend of the milos
Saturday morning he had a hearty breakfast of porridge and banana before we got the train to waterloo. Like a good commuter he had a babycino on arrival at waterloo which went some way in making up for his complete disregard of all commuting mores by talking, singing, waving and pointing at people.

On the journey down to Folkestone, in between looking at the cows/sheep/horses (although despite his convictions *not* goats or llamas) he ate a packed lunch of marmite sandwiches and raisins. On arrival at my mums he had scrambled egg and a pear. Dinner was one of my mum's cottage pies with swede and carrot mashed into the potato and I detected a hint of maggi sauce. He wolfed it down and then had stewed apricots for pudding.

Sunday breakfast was more porridge and stewed apricots, then we had a long journey back during which time he should've slept but didn't, instead eating herb puffs on the train and left-over cottage pie for dinner. He loves the cottage pie.

No wonder my arm goes dead when I'm carrying him around now. Luckily Claire lent us her rucksack, which was a lifesaver.