I like pigs. Who doesn’t? So I was delighted when Shana secretly purchased this little piglet (or boar, if you want to get all strictly David Attenborough about it).
‘It’ll replace some of the ornaments that were accidentally marmalised during our game of indoor Swingball,’ she said.
Well, I was, naturally, very pleased with the perfect condition and obvious high quality of the charming little piglet and the miniature trout that arrived by the same post. (I enjoy the occasional plate of fish for lunch, so this instantly appealed to me.) But I had to explain to Shana one of the harsh realities of this blog.
‘Yes, we did have a Swingball set,’ I said. ‘But that bit about the Wade Whimsies was, I’m afraid, pure fiction. Like most of those ghosty programmes on the Really channel, it was “for entertainment purposes only”.’
Shana looked like someone who had just dropped a full tube of toothpaste: Crestfallen. ‘But, but, I thought it was all true,’ she wailed.
‘Nah!’ I said. ‘You must be thinking of Google.’