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So, Oh Patient One and I are off to Australia this summer to visit relatives. We also want to see a bit of the country while we’re there, and have decided to spend a few days in Melbourne and Sydney.

Anyway, last night we were discussing our travel plans on Skype (because I am currently at the UK house) and this is part of the conversation we had.

Oh Patient One: “I’ve booked our intercontinental flights, I just have to book the internal flights and the hotels.”

Me: “Fabulous. Do you want help with the rest of the arrangements?”

Oh Patient One: “It’s fine, I don’t mind doing it.”

Me: “Okay. But how about I book the hotels?”

Oh Patient One (with a humorous gleam in his eye): “Remember you booked the hotel when we took my mother to Montreal and it was right in the middle of the red-light district?”

Me (laughing): Well, the hotel was very clean. Your mum thought it was great. And the girls were very nice.”

Oh Patient One (also laughing): “Yes, they were nice. But you do realize that some of them were not, strictly speaking, female?”

Me: “Of course I do.”

Then Oh Patient One fell about laughing even harder. And just as I was thinking that it wasn’t that funny, he managed to pull himself together.

Oh Patient One: “What about that other time when you took your mum and auntie to Washington DC for a minibreak, and you ended up in a hotel in the middle of the drug district?”

I fell about laughing at this point, although at the time it was a bit scary.

Me: (Once I’ve managed to pull myself together): “But anyone could have made that mistake. I mean, it was a reputable chain of hotels, and it said on the website that it was only six blocks from the Capitol.”

Oh Patient One (still grinning as he humors me): “I know, I know.”

Me: (grinning back): “Okay. You book the hotels. But if we end up somewhere terrible you are never going to hear the last of it.”