Happily, this doubles as an opportunity to cram the Pad with Jubilee baubles. I've been cultivating a bit of a habit. This means that if I see something with the Queen's face or a Union Jack on, or (even better) some combination of the two, I buy it. Anyone in the UK at the moment will recognise that, with three weeks until Flotilla Day, this could lead to personal financial catastrophe. Shops are rammed with the stuff.
BOF, as you might expect, is very much on board with the flag-fest. He's spent the past three weeks trying to instigate compulsory bunting on his desk at work, to no avail. It's almost as if his colleagues are becoming hostile to the whole event.
Such domestic support makes my themed oniomania even harder to restrain. It's also vicarious. We don't need to actually own the tat to take pleasure in it. Much better to force it on other people.
BOF: Do you know I saw the most amazing Union Jack luggage the other day.
KITC: You should probably get it.
BOF: Yes! No. I'm saving for school fees.
KITC: (downcast) OK.
BOF: Is there anyone we know with a birthday coming up?
BOF: My mum could probably do with some more Union Jack crockery - let's get that.
KITC: And we'll need another Grenadier Guard tin to put it in.
BOF: Good thinking.
It was as I found myself, all Jubilee-Special-Carrie-Mathison, being gently removed from the picnic section in Waitrose by a concerned BOF, grasping for 'Royal' Moet as I passed, that I realised it's becoming a problem. There is just not enough money in the world or space in the Pad for this.