OK. So maybe they don't. Pretty much the only names Josh has are: a) Josh b) Little Man and c) Mr Man.
(Pause)
So anyhoo,we're home from the hospital.
So far it has been OK. On Friday, like the Space Shuttle jettisoning the booster rockets once they've done their job, we bade farewell to Grandma who's done a great job looking after Zoe all week.
Unlike the booster rockets, Grandma won't burn up on re-entering the atmosphere - she has another four (plus one on the way) grandchildren to reattach to.
More photos - and less of the clumsy space analogies - to follow:
Where we come from, Grandma is not short for 'grandmother' - it's 'grandmaster'.
Look, just put your own funny caption in here. You know you want to. Mine is: 'Don't even try to turn this frown upside down'. Free nappy change to the funniest entry.
Sleep: the fifth dimension.
There is no space-time continuum when you're a week old. It's the sleep-eat continuum. Here, our subject is currently engaged in the 'sleep' dimension (see above).
I can't explain it, but for some reason Dad really likes this photo. It's not the puffy sleeve, or the flabby arms, but the angle of the head, I think: you don't see one-week-olds look over their shoulder like this. What does it all mean? That it's time for bed.
Don't feel bad about saying it, we said it too: he looks like this guy from the Simpsons.PS Don't forget Josh's sister has a site, here. Dad's next challenge is to work out how to combine both of these sites into one mega-family site.
