Because I am English, I have a roast dinner every Sunday. This week, I visited my parents house as my entire family would be there - apart from my Aunt and Uncle who we don't invite because they're a little bit strange and they're also on holiday. Both my sisters will be there, the sane one and the other one, along with my brother in law and my niece.

My niece is constantly growing. Last time I saw her she was this big and now she's this big. (Imagine me holding my hand between my knee and my hip and then raising it by a little bit!) I no longer have to bend down to clip her round the ear. Her current trick is to shout out in a loud voice whenever she thinks anyone has released some intestinal gas.

My dad moved in his reclining arm chair, which creaked under his weight. "Gandad just twumped!"
I straightened my leg and the knee joint on my aging and weary body cracked. "Unkey MB tumped!"
My mum, sitting on the sofa, leaned to her left hand side, raised her bottom from the sofa and let rip. "Nana did a loud twmp!"

We then sat down to eat. My brother in law is training to be a vicar, an imam or a rabbi depending on which God you believe in. He is also gradually having any semblance of a sense of humour removed. He has just returned from a training course in the Brecon Beacons where he had taken the opportunity to do some walking / climbing about which he spoke with a dead pan face Jimmy Carr would've been proud of:

"And by 9:30 in the morning I was on top of Lord Hereford's Knob."

My little sister and I kept our gaze firmly fixed on our plates fearing that if we even caught a glimpse of the other trying not to laugh, we'd break.

I dared to take a swig of my elderberry drink as he said "It was one of the hardest I'd done in a long time." and thus causing me to spray my mum with a mixture of flavoured water and spittle.