Earlier this year, when I was off on a Greek Isle, our kids' TV broke. Not a great tragedy, as tragedies go, and we've been in no real hurry to replace it.
Today, Susie sent me a note, that she had seen a decent looking replacement for a very reasonable price at, of all places, the supermarket while she was out shopping. I poked around the net, didn't find anything to dissuade me, and decided to pick it up after work.
I go into the market, head for the meat section, because I have to pick up steaks for the special dinner we're having tonight. (What's the occasion? Read on...) I buy the steaks, and a little bottle of wine to make a reduction sauce, and head over to the TV section. A brief chat with the counter dude, and he sends a flunky off to the warehouse to get the TV.
This being the UK, there is a license for televisions. It funds the BBC. When you buy a TV, you have to fill out a form, and they report the sale so the government can verify that you have paid the license fee. So I'm filling out the form, and I get to the bottom, where it says, "Date of sale."
I blank. I look at my watch for the date, but it's not displayed. I look at the counter dude, and say, "Um, what's today's date?" He thinks a sec, and then, just before he answers, I remember.
It's January 6th.
My birthday. And the reason I went to the store in the first place was to get the steaks for my birthday dinner.