Unfortunately, while Jane forgives a great many things, it appears I may not get my dream car, not least because it wouldn't fit in our designated bay.
Me: "If I had £40,000, can we have this tank?"
Jane: "Where would we park it?"
Me: "Anywhere we fucking liked."
She is - of course - quite right, and we will have to make do with our standard-issue Roomba floor sweeper because I doubt if the multi-storey at the Hart Centre will take the weight.
And who wants a tank in this day and age? It wasn't too many years ago that you could buy a military helicopter direct from the factory in Russia for just a tad over sixty grand. It's a ground-attack helicopter or nothing, because I want to beat the traffic jams. And by "beat", I mean "thoroughly destroy".