If you marry a lawyer, you immediately limit the satisfaction which is to be had from one of the most fulfilling activities that two consenting adults can enjoy within the privacy of their own home. That is of course to say arguing.

If you marry a lawyer, you’ll find yourself pretty quickly being cross-examined during the most routine skirmish. Often in the most pompous way complete with sarcastic asides to the cat.

Even the most routine disagreement, perhaps regarding who might or might not have lost the shed key, can pretty quickly lead to you being given that most menacing of warnings:

“May I remind you that you are on oath.”

But the real problem with being married to a lawyer is this.

You regularly find yourself sitting watching television with them and having to listen to their tut tutting and general pedantic comments whilst you try to enjoy Coronation Street or some other cultural offering.

Of course, art must mirror life. But in soapland it can ironically be a fairly grubby likeness of it.

So, in Weatherfield, if there’s to be a storyline about whether Jim MacDonald is going to spend Christmas behind bars then usually he will thump somebody on the Tuesday and be up before the Crown Court within the week.

And it is at this point, just as you were wondering whether this spells the end of his reconciliation with Liz and Steve, that your legally qualified other half tediously chips in with:

“But he hasn’t had a committal hearing where the Magistrates commit him to a Crown Court has he?”

They think it’s important.

Incredibly, they think you care.