On Christmas Eve you suddenly realise that you don’t have a present for Aunty Joan. In the past your mum always included you in whatever she bought for her, soaps usually, but now you're married you should probably get her something from the two of you.
"I have to go and get a present for Aunty Joan," you tell your wife.
She looks at you as if you've said you need to operate on the cat. She often gives you that look.
"Who’s Aunty Joan?" she asks.
"She’s my aunty," you say. "You’ll meet her tomorrow. She always comes for Christmas."
"Alright," she says. "There’s a voucher in my purse for five pounds worth of cosmetics. Use that and get her some soaps."