Dh was in Scotland for a week and having found out on the Monday I couldn't bear to wait until the Friday so after a pefectly normal half hour phone call, just as he was about to put the phone down, I blurted out that I had something to tell him, and the conversation went something like:
Me: You're going to kill me.
Him: What have you done? Oh, bloody hell, you've crashed the car!
Me: Noooo ... Oh, God, you'll never forgive me!
Him: It can't be the car, it's parked at the airport - oh my God, you've killed the cat!
Me: Noooo ... oh, bugger, I can't tell you like this. You're going to hate me!
Him: You've set fire to the £@# house!
Me: Noooo - itlookslikeImightsortofbepregnant
Him: Oh, fantastic! (pause) I thought you were on the Pill?
Me: Yes, so did I.
Him: It's that Ben Elton!
Me: ????
Him: Ben Elton - it's his fault!
Me: ???
Him: You were reading that book of his, Inconceivable, weren't you!
When he got home he threw the book out - he's not normally superstitious but he can't quite get round the idea that the book has something to do with it and didn't want me to read it again just in case!