Family planning aside, we can draw inspiration from Quinn and Ben on The Block. Photo / File
For what seems like an eternity, the Page household has been subjected to a ritual hammering (no pun intended) from the television Do It Yourself building show known as The Block.
This has meant three months - though it seems much longer - of almost nightly TV watching by Mrs P and the Boomerang Child intent on picking up various ideas in relation to house design, building, gardening, furnishing ... and a generous amount of perving at hunky builders in stubbies.
For my part, I chose not to participate in either activity.
Basically, this is because the programme did not involve two teams chasing a ball around, and also because I'm a man and we already know everything there is to know about DIY.
Ahem.
Now, for those three people in New Zealand who apparently did not watch The Block, the programme involves four couples each doing up a house in Auckland. The houses are sold at the end of it and the four couples - Alex and Corbin, Jo and Damo, Maree and James, Quinn and Ben - get to keep any money they make.
According to Mrs P, "everybody" loved Jo and Damo from the tiny Manawatu hamlet of Feilding.
Store that little bit of info up while I continue.
So. A week or so ago, The Block is drawing to a close and, anxious to get away from it all, I suggest to my beloved a long weekend getaway down to Martinborough in Wairarapa to catch up with No1 Son, recently resurfaced from his free diving exploits in the Bahamas.
I knew Mrs P would be keen. This was, after all, a chance to catch up with her baby. What I hadn't been prepared for was her insistence on navigating for me while I drove. Odd.
We took the usual trail down the middle of the island. Through Waiouru, Taihape. Cup of coffee at Mangaweka.
Then she threw me. "Left here," she barked as the car plunged into unfamiliar territory. "What the hell," I thought. "We're on a break. We can take a little detour. I'll just rescue us when she gets us lost."
For the next 30 or so minutes we drove up and down hills, around corners and finally out across a flat expanse of country which led to - of all places - Feilding.
"Wonder if they'll have good-luck flags out for Jo and Damo," said Mrs P, excited at passing through the home town of her heroes and then reminding me the all-important finale was on the telly that very night.
Groan. I'd obviously cocked up. I thought the The Block torture was already over.
Now it seemed I had another night to endure and, seeing as we had booked into a motel, there would be no escape to another room as I could at home. I'd have to watch it.
I grumbled as much, as we purchased wine and nibbles for the big occasion, Mrs P insisting I would enjoy the programme and some of the great stuff the four couples had built/designed/bought/borrowed etc.
It wasn't entirely what I had in mind on the first night of my get-away-from-it-all relaxing, long weekend but, as the wine flowed and the nibbles were, well, nibbled, I had to admit I did find some of the little bits of construction they had tried somewhat intriguing.
Stupidly, I muttered "that looks good".
And just like that, the ranchslider opened.
"We could do that in our hallway."
"How about you try that paving idea out the back?"
"We really should get some nice outdoor furniture. They had some really great ideas."
Begrudgingly, I had to accept that yes, we could indeed copy some of the things the contestants had come up with.
Almost, that is.
A nice paint job and a water feature in the garden I could handle, but I drew the line at copying Quinn and Ben's showstopping moment when they announced she was pregnant.
Kevin Page has been a journalist for 34 years. He hasn't made enough money to retire after writing about serious topics for years, so he's giving humour a shot instead.