Just want to have a different answer to the question "Where is your husband?" when my car needs seeing to. "I AM my husband" I say defiantly, staring the callout guy dead in the RayBans. Somewhere in the distance, Metallica plays as I motion to a large but well-organised toolbox

on the side of the driveway. "I just called you here to hand me my tools and impart my vast vehicular knowledge on someone". He pauses, confused and amused until he pops the toolbox lid and sees a range of professional tools, neatly separated by function.

I turn the key.

"Ah, it's the carburetor" I say certainly, "just as I thought". He waits... "Oh, it's a device that mixes air and fuel" I say slowly, making sure to mouth each syllable carefully so that he gets it, whilst coming up with a suitable analogy.

"So, if you think about it, the carburetor is like the lungs of the car..." A bead of sweat forms on his brow. I am his master now.