I sullenly admitted that when I clicked on the invitation to join, I was immediately offered a free overseas flight and hotel accommodation, plus a chance to win a luxury car or $50,000 in cash, on top of the original offer that placed me in a draw to win $125,000, in exchange for agreeing to buy a series of books on healthy food and lifestyle improvements.
The caregiver continued to give me the pitying look usually reserved for our children when they demand iPhones for their birthdays.
"Do you seriously believe that purchasing books on healthy food is going to change your dietary habits?" she asked, adding "I don't think you'll find many recipes for roast pork washed down with a cheeky little Pinot Gris, or T-bones served with French fries."
Once again, I felt the caregiver had sucked all the oxygen out of the room and I was finding it hard to think.
"What about the prizes?" I morosely responded. "Even if the healthy food books are a bit light on treacle pudding recipes, what about the money and cars? After all, I must have a good chance of winning because only a few people are participating, it's all very exclusive."
"Yes, you and probably 10 million others," my loved one sneered.
"Well," I concluded, "I don't think an organisation like Reader's Digest would try to bewitch me with tempting offers without substance. After all, look at their headquarters' address in the US.
"A corporation residing in a place called Pleasantville is surely a company one can believe in."
