There are many great things about being married to an American. Apart from the fact my husband is just generally awesome, the benefits that spring to mind are home-made, lovingly crafted barbecue sauce and elotes, BBQ'd corn cobs slathered in mayonnaise, Parmesan cheese and chilli powder. But there are some eye-rollingly infuriating, very American parts of my partner's personality that I would love to change, namely his tendency to customise the menu within an inch of its life. "Can I have the tomato and avocado on toast, but with the Promite on the side, and can you squeeze a lemon over it? And can you add just one scrambled egg - yes, just one - and a piece of black pudding? And a macchiato with cold milk, not steamed. Thank you." Cue much shrinking-behind-menu-until-level-with-floor on my part.
Entry: Step - inaccessible.