Up to my arse in Barry Norman's pickled onions

Frog's having a go at setting up this year's Summer Reading Challenge, "Team Read." For some reason the materials provided this year are a bit subfusc, tending to olive greens, old golds and faded chintz pinks.

For our overseas visitors: the Summer Reading Challenge is organised by the Reading Agency and aims to encourage children's reading through the summer holidays. Which is a laudable aim and works quite well in practice. Participation in the Challenge is voluntary, so if money's tight we don't have to buy in all the necessary materiel. Unfortunately, completion of the Challenge is two of the national performance indicators (boys and girls). Voluntary, like.

There isn't room to swing an amoeba at Frog's desk so he decided it would be a good idea to use one of the unoccupied desks by the window to sort out the stuff. Mary provided a counter-suggestion:

"There's a spare desk in Kevin's office, you should use that."

Frog, to his credit, demurred, saying that he knew I was in the middle of a difficult problem sorting out some problems with the stock invoicing system. In reality, we both know that this is the start of Mary's campaign to have my office turned into a "sorting-out room." Bollocks to that: I don't mind moving out to create a private personnel interview room. I do mind moving out to create a new shit cupboard.