Picture the scene: we are sitting in the Old Joint Stock in Birmingham City Centre. It is a Friday afternoon, but as Katie and I are off work for the week, beer and pies are featuring on the agenda. Quite heavily.
Katie gestures to St Philip's Cathedral opposite. "Remind me," she says, "is that St Philip's or St Paul's? I can never remember."
"I'll give you a clue," I reply. "Think about the name of the bloke you married."
"Oh," she says, not missing a beat, "is there a St Grumpybastard, then?"
It's so good we have a relationship of mutual respect.