“Don’t make me choose”, says Linda May, who’s looking at cedar wood dressers she’s found in a furniture catalogue marketing summery sales that just came in the other day.

“I love them both, I just can’t pick! It’s like you’re asking me to pick myself my one and only favourite child! They’re both so great for different reasons. One’s so chic and sleek and cool with no rough edges, masterpiece of hand and tool. And Two’s so full of character and purpose just a big old lump of wood that’s accidentally perfect, shouldn’t be more rounded even if it could.”

“It sounds a lot like one of them is nice and all, but sounds like it’s the ragged one you absolutely love. It doesn’t matter what’s perceived as good.” pipes in the loving husband, thought to be asleep with his old blanket eating up his head like it’s a hood.

“You’re right.” says Linda May, “I can’t help loving what I do. I think it’s time I must admit that I’m now leaning option 2.”

“Yeah, and David can be a right pretentious prick.” says the husband, as he takes a garish mouthful of cheetos.