See, this is what happens when you let Burton Dasset help out.
I remarked in passing that I'm absent-minded about charging my phone. Commented that, should Charlii suddenly go into labour when I've let the battery die, I won't know about it for ages.
Came in just now to discover that he's purchased a dozen cheap phones, downloaded their numbers into Young Keith's, and has wired each phone up to forward answer phone messages to all the others. That way, he says, he makes sure I won't miss the announcement that the youngest member of the Fitzroy Russell clan is on the way.
Yeah, I said. But Young Keith only has one phone. And he's as bad at charging his, as I am. And there's no guarantee, in the circumstances of a rapid exit from Waitrose, let us say (apparently they give you the shopping free if your waters break, so Charlii's spending a lot of time in there at the moment), that Charlii will remember to let me know so then what?
He went a bit white for a while. But now Young Keith has half a dozen phones. One of which is wind-up. I'm gonna be the best-informed Granny in Central England at this rate.