Last night I was sitting in bed reading as Jon locked up the house and cleaned the kitchen. Suddenly he popped his head into the room.

“Heather,” he said, “you need to come admire the load job I just did on the dishwasher. It’s that good.”

“How good?” I asked.

“No other mortal could stack such a small space with so many dishes.”

Really? Because now that you’ve said that I’m not going to need a gin and tonic to get in the mood.