Hell hath no fury like a Fraser teething. At least that is what I hope is going on, otherwise I will be forced to conclude that Andy and I have unwittingly contributed our genetic material to the earthly form of the anti-Christ.

Needless to say, Fraser did not sleep well last night. At midnight Andy and I were both in the nursery trying every blessed thing we could think of to get him to calm down, and Fraser responded to each and every attempt by making a noise that sounded like a howler monkey running its claws across a blackboard, amplified twenty times and pumped directly into your brain. And yet at breakfast this morning Fraser sat in his highchair, smiling happily, scarfing up his rice cereal, laughing at his dad and otherwise giving no hint at all that he may be preparing for a period of "trials and tribulations" during which the he, inspired by Satan, will attempt to win supporters with great works, and will silence anyone or make enemies of any country that refuses their allegiance.

Look, I'm not saying that Armageddon is necessarily upon us or we should start searching for omens indicating the end of the world (I mean really, "natural disasters, civil problems, and other catastrophes" what on earth could we possibly point to that would satisfy those criteria?) but if Fraser has another night like last night I may start sleeping with a bible and cross, just to be on the safe side.