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There’s every chance her brain is still working out the meaning of the word pregnant.
    Ryan: Pissing himself laughing. This is also not unexpected. The amount of conversations we’ve had about never, ever having children is in double figures at least. He will dine out on this for months - if not years - to come.
    Isobel: Hmmm. Not sure about this one. The cross-eyed, glazed expression may be a sign of happiness, but it could equally just be the wine. I don’t think massaging Ryan’s groin has much to do with her feelings about my upcoming fatherhood. Nor does the thin line of drool coming from one corner of her mouth… I hope.
     
    ‘That’s so, so fantastic!’ Tim squeals, this time in happiness. Dan’s hands have gone to his face in delight. I love these two, but sometimes I do wish they’d dial down the camp just a bit. ‘Ooh! Ooh! Bagsy being a Godparent!’ Tim wails.
    Dan gives him a playful clout. ‘You bitch, I was going to say that.’
    ‘Well paint me bright yellow and call me a fucking banana,’ Dave says. ‘You’re the last couple on Earth I would have expected this from!’
    ‘Dave!’ Katherine says in a horrified voice.
    ‘It’s alright Katherine, we felt exactly the same way,’ Laura says. ‘It’s taken us weeks to get used to the idea.’
    …of never buying a Lamborghini , I think in the dark recesses of the pettiest parts of my brain.
    It seems that the general reaction is a good one.
    I note that Katherine and Isobel have both got their smart phones out and are probably changing their status updates. There will be tweets and re-tweets happening as well, I have no doubt.
    God bless the social network revolution. My cousin Alan will be up to speed in no time… provided he’s not been banged up for inappropriate touching by the
Montreal
police.
     
    The rest of the evening is awash with the usual questions.
    The one I’ve been dreading is asked by Isobel: ‘So, did you plan to knock ‘er up, Jame? I hope there was no pictures of Jesus nearby!’ This sends her into another gale of drunken laughter. Laura gives me a look that screams ‘you’ll be explaining that one to me in bed later, mister’ .
    I’ve managed to keep the explicit details of my night of terror with Isobel to myself for two years now, but no longer it appears.
    ‘It wasn’t planned Isobel, no.’ I tell her.
    ‘But we’re happy about it nonetheless,’ Laura interjects, just to make everybody clear. I feel like she’s trying to convince herself more than anyone else, but I put the thought out of my head. The horny leer Isobel is aiming in my direction is helping to do this magnificently.
    Other than that little embarrassment (thankfully Laura was so tired by the time everyone left she’d forgotten all about Isobel’s cryptic utterance) the evening ended well.
    We sent our friends off armed with all the information they’d need about the pregnancy to spread the story across the internet, and we both sat down to do our own Facebook status updates.
    Laura’s received ten times as many Likes from her largely female friends list as I did from my predominantly male one - which just goes to show who’s really paying attention, doesn’t it?
     
    I’d like to say that the following evening with the relatives went as well, but families (mine anyway) have a distinct and never-ending ability to fuck up even the happiest of occasions.

 
     
     
    Laura’s Diary
    Wednesday, June 12th
     
     
    Dear Mum,
     
    There are many times I wish you’d squeezed out more siblings for me to fight over the bathroom with. I always feel I missed out somewhat because I never had a large family.
    Saturday night convinced me that on the whole, I was actually better off with just you…
     
    Friday evening went brilliantly. Tim and Dan were beside themselves, Melina immediately wanted to tell me everything she’d learned during her pregnancy, and Ryan and Isobel had sex in the airing cupboard while the rest of us were downstairs