I fly up to Copenhagen. I will spend the next week and a half solidifying my position as Jack's favourite uncle.

I arrive at Copenhagen, and Richard is late coming to pick me up. When he finally gets there I am highly unimpressed. He is fat. Like Trevor last Christmas. This is what having a child does to you. He should be well on his way to bald by this time next year.

We get home. When Jack wakes up, he mistakes me for one of his other uncles, and cries. Understandable that the poor little guy would cry, he was expecting Uncle Mark, so on mistaking me for one of those other humps, what else should he do. For the rest of the day, Jack continues to cry every time he looks at me.