THE lovely wife (TLW) has been threatening to stage an intervention of late, and that can’t be good news. It’s not the betting, thankfully, and I’ve not yet taken to hiding empty gin bottles in the toilet cistern, but every now and again she’ll come through the front door and ask, in agitated tones: “Is that ANOTHER box of crap from Temu on the doorstep?”

“It’s not crap.”