As a result of visiting the builders merchants four days ago I told my builder I had a short-list of two basic styles of internal door, each of which came in a variety of colours and veneers. He was able to check the prices and told me the ones I liked cost twice as much as my budget but never fear, one veneer of one of the styles I like would be on 50% sale in January. I looked at the catalogue again and wasn't keen on that particular veneer but decided to take a break from the mind-numbing bathroom choices and go back to the builders merchants to look at doors for real again. Secondborn, who'd spotted how addled and incompetent I was getting, kindly said she'd cycle there with me.

We agreed that the door that will be on sale is better in the wood than it is in the catalogue - an easy and satisfying decision, and it was very much better not to be making it on my own.

Then we had to choose handles, again without being allowed to know the prices - a very odd way to make a decision. Secondborn and I have similar taste and both picked out the same style of handle. I said to one of the two guys behind the counter, 'I know you can't tell me prices but I'm very good at choosing the most expensive. Is that what I've done this time? A bit sheepishly he nodded so we put them down. We agreed easily on our second choice so I looked inquiringly at the guy behind the counter. 'Um.. about half the price of the other one,' he said.

'OK, I hope they're not too expensive. I'll ask the builder,' I said. He nodded again.

Then Secondborn said: Would you like a birthday present?
Me: It's your birthday next, not mine.
Secondborn: True but if you don't have another birthday I get the handles with the house anyway.

The exchange of horrified glances between the guys behind the counter was an absolute picture. Made my morning day weekend.

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