A few weeks ago, I was in the midst of a text exchange with my wife, covering the kind of inane issues that make up the daily domestic agenda. Has the electricity bill been paid? Yes. Is the mince in the fridge still good? I think so.

Before we could discuss whether a new episode of our show had dropped, my wife steered the conversation in a terrifying direction: “I feel a bit funny in the tummy, do you?”

I don’t know, do I? Almost the minute she texted the idea into existence,........

© The Sydney Morning Herald