A week and a bit ago, amongst a whole load of other shopping, I bought a large jar of olives. From time to time I do this -- it means I can sit in front of the telly with a bowl of olives instead of crisps or chocolate, which is better for me. Of course what actually happens is that I eat the olives and the crisps and the chocolate, but that's the way things are.
I'd been out shopping this morning (not for food), and when I got back, I thought about the olives. I picked up the new jar and opened it, but the pleasing "thunk" sound that you get when the vacuum on a new jar is released didn't occur. I looked into the jar and discovered that the olives were covered with a thin layer of something I readily identified as oogyickius mouldyfungus, an unpleasant invader of poorly-stored foodstuffs. So this afternoon, I took my big jar of olives back to the shop and secured a refund.
While I was at the shop, while I was purchasing a replacement jar, my mind wandered to the sausages which were lurking in wait in the fridge back at home, and I dreamed fondly of sausage sandwiches. I put a loaf of bread in my basket.
Now, the brown sauce in my kitchen is the responsibility of myself and the Stepson jointly. We both use it, and we both hold fast to the view that it's the other party's turn to replace the bottle when it's nearly empty. We've been below the quarter-inch mark in the current bottle for some time, and it's becoming more and more difficult to extract sauce from the bottle. I know it's not my turn, but nevertheless I found some brown sauce, which joined the other goods in my basket.
When I arrived home, I took my newly-purchased bottle of brown sauce from the bag, and discovered an identical newly-purchased bottle stood there waiting for me.
I guarantee total confusion when both of these bottles are finished.