Yesterday afternoon, while I was at work, Claire text me. She was annoyed. Tesco had delivered our online shop and had cocked up. A huge bottle of milk had arrived broken and was dripping milk all over the house. Claire’s favourite weekly television listings magazine, TV Easy, was also wrong. It was an old issue. What is the point in that? I suppose Claire and I could snuggle together on the sofa, both reading the outdated magazine, and look at TV programs we could have watched last weekend.

Perhaps the biggest mistake of all by Tesco involved my Toffee Bon Bons. They were out of stock. While I can just about believe that these were all sold out (after all, they are delicious), what did madden me was their failure to provide any suitable substitution. Are they telling me were no suitable sweets they could provide instead? Whoever picked our shopping this week was very lazy, or stupid, or blind, or all of these things.
I’ll stop moaning about Tesco. Until next week, at least, when we’ll get another delivery, which will no doubt involve exploding tins of baked beans, spiders in the bananas and substituting a tube of toothpaste for a bag of toenails.

After her ordeal with Tesco, I gave Claire the night off, and cooked all the tea myself; because I am such a good husband-to-be, and also because Claire cleaned the entire house, while I was at work, with our brand-spanking new vacuum cleaner. Her brother’s girlfriend, Jess, also visited, so I felt like Gordon Ramsey in the kitchen. In fact, I was more like Captain Birdseye, considering I was only cooking breaded chicken, vegetable burgers, chips and a pre-prepared salad.

While I cooked, Claire and Jess discussed hen parties. I am still to plan my stag weekend, although have my heart set on a weekend to York, the place of my birth. Of course, when going up north, it would be rude not to make a trip to the northern home of football, Elland Road, and catch a Leeds United game. This could end badly, considering some members of my stag party don’t like football. Also, Leeds are rubbish at football, so will probably lose and ruin my entire weekend.

After eating a meal fit for school dinners, we ate Claire’s offering – chocolate and cornflake cakes. Jess then painted Claire’s face with makeup. I make it sound like they were playing games. There was a purpose behind the makeup application. It was in preparation for our wedding, less than 11 months away. While Claire will be having makeup, I have been told I won’t. If she wanted to marry a man with makeup, she would have to choose Boy George, The Joker or Ronald McDonald.