I am fond of the elderly woman who peers back at me from the bathroom mirror every morning, but she does get on my nerves after a while...

"We might as well try it," says Mr Young. "I mean, what can go wrong? It just has to get hot and steamy, after all."

I Google 'unsympathetic husband Feng Shui solutions'. We may need to move our ensuite toilet.

We trudge home, compulsively calling "Murphy? Murphy?" until I worry it will become a nervous tic, in a Tourettes sort of way.

I miss the endless vacuuming, ..inappropriate humping of guests' legs. Sure, Mr Young does his best to fill the void, but it's not the same.

It's not a ladylike fart. It's impressively musical, though, like an opera singer going through her warming-up exercises.

Mr Young gets exasperated with me every time this happens to the clocks. Which, obviously, is twice a year.

To pay Mr Young the ultimate compliment, I am turning into a cottage loaf, with a fat little bread head topping a large doughy round bottom.

"Sit!" commands the tiny Mr Young. Archie ignores this, and looks at me instead, because he knows it's supper time.

I just have to take out my contact lenses to instantly transform my wardrobe...

My lack of moral fibre is disappointing; just a few minutes in the hairdressers and I'm converted to cannibalism.

I make a list of all the painful things I've ever endured, and try to remember if I was stoic at the time.

But in order to provide the olives, it sees that they must first plant their own olive tree, then watch it grow to maturity...

Children never patter. They thunder about like carthorses. Even the tiny ones.

"The cauliflower is very small." "And the penguin will not fly tonight," I whisper back.

Oxymoron will probably be outside, idiotically headbutting the oak tree with his stumpy horns.

The constant round of book signings and interviews is getting to be a bit of a grind. At least, it must be for J K Rowling.

We may get an urge for a Kitkat or some peanut M&Ms, but we've never yet had to make an emergency stop for a PVC nurse's uniform.

Reviews: "I would have laughed 'til I cried if I'd bothered to go and see her..." Mr Young. "It was complete rubbish..." Everybody else.

My attention span is nomadic. Set it up with a gypsy caravan and you'd never hear from it again, apart from the occasional postcard.