1) Shaving after a shower always means doing it in a foggy mirror, wearing foggy glasses, which means there is _always_ a small patch somewhere I miss. Frequently it's a tiny line on the tip of my chin, where the downstroke from the lips and the upstroke from the adam's apple clearly don't quite meet.

2) The packet of fish fingers I bought has fourteen fish fingers in it. Seven is clearly too many to eat at once, which leaves me wondering how they intend me to divide them up - two meals involving five fish fingers, and a mini-meal of four? Three lots of four and a midnight snack of two? A big pile of fish-fingers in the middle of the table, spread between those who are fast enough with a fork? Or is it just a cunning ploy to make me buy another packet when I get down to four, so that I can get one out of it and have a reasonable number again?