< Well really! I'm beginning to think New Dad doesn't want to get better. Half way through his fourth bowl of ant soup he stopped and refused to eat any more. Even after he'd thrown up, he wouldn't touch another drop.
Some of my best ants went into that soup. Also, there's almost a bath-full of it upstairs, and I can't eat all of it myself. I shall have to remind him how my mum, Mrs Vermilingua, calls it "Ant Penicillin". By not eating it he's insulting her recipe and her medical knowledge, so I'm sure he'll change his mind about it eventually.
Anyway. I've booked a full-page advert in next month's SkateBoard magazine - the entire back page. This is the absolute prime spot for an advert. I shall shoulder the burden of promoting my medical empire myself; I have broad shoulders.
Actually, I don't have any visible shoulders at all, but you know what I mean. >
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