Slanket

I've got a slanket. A great big, red, all covering furry swathe of joy, all the better for watching television under. It may well be the best thing in the world that doesn't come in a bottle or attached to a woman.

For the uninitiated (which included me until very recently), a slanket is a blanket... with sleeves! Hence the name, I suppose. I've only just worked that out. I'm quite dim sometimes. Anyway, it's a great big covery thing to slouch under, but with voluminous sleeves that allow the 21st century couch potato to pour more wine into his glass, eat more toast, or fiddle about with the nightmarish future-powers of the Sky Plus control. It is simple yet elegant in its ergonomic genius, and I have almost instantly decided to spend most evenings living in it. I recommend it vigorously.

It can also be worn backwards, transforming the wearer into a very convincing Time Lord. I have spent much time over the last few days striding up and down the house, declaring "the end of time itself!" To my (majestic) annoyance, Caroline refuses to obey any of my Gallifreyan commands and doesn't even have the basic decency to be vapourised by my 'sleeve of power'.

Girls.

However. It was her who bought me the thing, so I suppose I should be grateful. And she's put up with me sneezing all week. And brought some wine and Jelly Babies home last night. I will let her live. For now. Until they invent a slanket that also makes cups of tea.