That. That has got to be my least favourite question at the moment. I've been trying to figure out just when it was that this question moved from mild annoyance to full-blown get-the-woman-a-martini meltdown territory and I've figured it out... Rather than one big thing, it's an accumulation of little things. You know, little things like... Little Thing #1 ... you were en route to Woolies, you even parked and got out of the car. You even strapped on the baby pouch carrier thingee and managed to fish a written (not scribbled) shopping list out from inbetween the wet wipes and a slobbery Sophie . You were good to go, you grabbed a trolley, you even started filling it and then, well, the angelic little cherub strapped to your leaky bosom suddenly morphed into a wailing banshee playing the bagpipes (badly). ' 'What's for dinner?'he asked. 'There's a Mimmos menu on the fridge,' I said.