While Mr B and I agree on many things, there are some things that we simply cannot quite reconcile. Bread for instance. I like white. He likes brown. Neither of us like those inbetweeny-looks-like-white-tastes-like-brown ones. Tea. English breakfast, white, one sugar for me. Earl Grey, black, no sugar for him. Shepherds pie. Heaven for me. Hell for him. Oysters. Hell for me. Heaven for him. Ok, so none of these differences are exactly a problem and we can carry on our lives quite happily, even if we do need to buy two loaves of bread at each shop and different brands of tea. No big deal. The one great debate that has always loomed large at Casa B is the prospect of having a TV in the bedroom. Personally, I would love one. I love the idea of being snuggled up in bed with a cuppa, white naturally, and popping on a movie. I love the idea of not having to wake up Mr B and drag him from the sofa when he, invariably, falls asleep halfway through Nikita.