Bit of background - DH likes bikes. Not like a normal person might but in the way that a train spotter likes trains. This has caused some tension over the years but I try to rise above it. DH has over 20 bikes in various states of partial dismemberment. He yearns to buy more "vintage bikes" (aka rubbish) all of the time and spends hours looking at pictures on e-bay. It is quite sad really.
Yesterday he runs into the kitchen telling me he had found a bike with the perfect 1950s cranks on that he had been looking for for months. His for a mere hundred and something pounds, but not to worry because there were bits on it he did not want that he could sell for twice that. He has never sold one single bike bit despite saying something similar each time he buys one. I tell him he knows my feelings about bikes and what our finances are like but he is an adult and I am not going to stop him spending the money he earns. Two minutes later he comes into the kitchen, the proud owner of yet another bike. I grimmace.
He comes to give me a hug and is very lovey. I think this is because he has bought the bloody thing and is trying to win me over. But no, there is more to it. Turns out the bike is collection only from London. We live over a hundred miles from London. However, I work there. He wants me to collect it from a suburb it will take about 40 minutes to get to after work and then somehow I have to get it back to the mainline train station and then in my car at the other end. I told him to get his own fecking bike.
His reply to me was that I was being totally unreasonable and he bet that if he was on something like mumsnet and asked everyone would agree, so I told him I would ask. If you lot tell me IABU, I will go and get the damn thing. If not, he is on his own. So, am I?