The Nurse met me off my train back from Cardiff. This is terribly endearing.
It's going so well that on Saturday morning we went to Habitat for a row. This is one of my favourite hobbies - finding a quiet section and then staging an enormous fake argument that rattles through from bathroom furnishings to rugs.
The Nurse actually did very well, responding to my "You think quoting Little Britain counts as a personality?" with "And you think looking like you're about to start decorating counts as dress sense?"
But best of all was when he slammed down a bowl and roared, "That's it, I'm telling your mother I'm sixteen!" and swished up the stairs.
An old gay gave me a sympathetic look. I found the Nurse outside, giggling on the phone.