Last week, we went to Hereford to buy a replacement for a broken palette knife. We couldn’t find one under L3, but we did find a portable TV that seemed like a bargain, so we brought that home instead. Our excitement turned to disappointment when we couldn’t get a picture on it, but we arranged to exchange it for a new one today.
We had just parked the car, when Sal turned to me and said, “What did we come to Hereford for?”
“Ummmm . . . cup of coffee?” I ventured.
“No! The television! And we’ve left the other one at home.”
In an attempt to rescue the day, I pointed out that the coffee option was still open, then ducked instinctively as one of Sal’s famous piercing looks whistled past me head.
Later, fortified with caffeine, we bought a picture. Not what we had come in for, and it wasn’t a new television, but at least it justified the trip to Hereford. Unfortunately, I managed to crack the glass on it by catching it on a protruding post box on the way back to the car. By this time the shops had just shut, so that meant having to come back into Hereford again just to get the picture glass replaced. And we still hadn’t got a new TV. Or a palette knife, come to that. I wondered what Sal was thinking.
“What would you say if I said ‘palette knife’ to you?” I asked her as we drove home.
“Oh no!” said Sal, “I knew there was something else we came in for!”