This morning, my ex (no, not A. I mean my ex-wife, the mother of my children) asked me if I could do her a favor. She wanted me to go to Philippa's for her, to pick up a few things. Now, going to Philippa's mid-morning on Christmas eve is non-trivial (I know this because I had been there earlier in the morning on an unrelated mission). The parking situation on High Street is dreadful, then when you get into the shop itself it's mostly full of braying yummy-mummies each of whom wants something special, with a smattering of clueless dithering husbands. I'm not a ditherer there, by the way. I go in very purposefully.
So as I was considering this request I was thinking it'd take a short but nasty drive in thick traffic, ten to fifteen minutes to find a park, then a fair amount of aggravation in the shop itself.
So I said "Yes". Because, I quite literally have nothing better to do.
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