He and his dad met me afterwards, and was so irresistibly cute in his sunnies and bike helmet that the friendly pathologist invited them to wheel the bike right into the waiting room, where he was given balloons and stickers.
It was my pregnancy glucose tolerance test this morning. No one gave me stickers or balloons, just 3 puncture wounds, a bottle and a half of sickly sweet vile potion to scull (on an empty stomach) and a moderately comfy chair to slouch on for two hours while I waited for the final blood test. My ridiculous 'delicate' veins were being difficult, as usual, so there will be bruising around two of the three puncture sites. Despite this, it was a thoroughly enjoyable morning spent chatting to Dawson, the blood man, for a couple of hours, about rescue dogs, cheesecake, baby names, solar panels, Larissa Waters and the 80s.