Bea is very concerned and keeps asking me questions straight from the Swine Flu Symptom Book:
"are you shivering?"
"are you spending, erm, longer in the lavatory than usual?"
"Well, it's not that then"
Thank God for the Royal Mail who yesterday delivered my Slanket. It's heavenly and has barely left my body since it's arrival at quarter past eleven. I've even mastered walking in it, no mean feat as it's huge. David wants to know why I didn't get him one as he watched me snuggle up on the sofa with it last night. This from a man who complains of being hot in the middle of winter and doubles up as my hot water bottle on those cold wintery nights. Mac informs me that it's "got the same skin as Dino", waving his motheaten dinosaur at me. I noted the glint in his eye and lovingly took my Slanket to bed with me last night. It's lovely and warm and cuddly and just so......cosy.
Janey has got Slanket-envy and is thinking of buying one for Uncle Jim's "significant birthday" - she took the order details with her when she left this morning to go to "Bluewater for a dander" - she lives in hope that she'll spot Victoria Beckham/Daniella Westbrooke/Jude Law one day and instantly grab herself a celebrity friend. "Michelle, y'know, the goalkeepers wife, she knows that bloke off Eastenders, you know, the one who went into the jungle and all because she bumped into him outside the lavs". She tried to take it with her when she left "y'know, just to try it". I pointed out that if she ordered it before 3pm today, she could have her own Slanket by Monday. She sensed the reluctance to remove my cosy wrapping but only after a half hearted attempt to mug me for it on my doorstep.
Anyway, must dash because, although I'm wearing my Slanket as I type, I feel the need to snuggle up on the sofa. Combined with a steaming cup of tea and a custard cream, it's the perfect way to spend an evening.