As the visionary who first conceived and effectuated a mini fridge in our bedroom stocked solely with 250ml cans of Perrier – indeed, as the pioneer who insisted on Perrier in the first instance (which is now widely accepted by residents of House Hamilton as the gold standard in refreshment) – I feel it incumbent upon me to object to the notion, postulated by my wife mere moments ago, that I should be required to share with her the last of such effervescent beverages available to us at present. I would point out that the Perrier is here not by divine providence, but by the careful and perhaps myopic designs of one mortal – a mortal who had heretofore taken great pains to replenish the stores of available water, but in recent weeks has been getting his ass kicked by work and therefore failed to do so in this instance. But I would counsel my wife not to look at the current lack of Perrier as my “fault” per se. Instead, she should look at prior cans of Perrier as my gift, and remember them fondly and with good cheer, and know that she wouldn’t be yearning for the can in my hand if she didn’t have those others cans in her heart.