Crossing the UK border by car today, the young immigration officer asked me if Mrs P could look up and take off her sunglasses. His view of her in the passenger seat was blocked and he needed her to lean forward so he could do his job. Fair enough. Except he referred to her by her first name.

Mrs P. gets annoyed if I indulge in sarcasm like "You know each other! How nice. Where did you meet?" There was a time when I could not have resisted, but she's not well and I don't want to upset her. I bit my lip and drove on brooding, but I despise myself for it.