You’re both standing in the middle of the Tesco pharmacy aisle, surrounded by shelves stacked with colourful boxes—vitamins, nappies, allergy meds, and enough neon-pink packaging to make your eyes ache. The fluorescent lighting hums quietly above, casting a sterile glow over the linoleum floor.

You nudge Simon gently with your elbow, tilting your head toward the family planning section. He follows your gaze and leans in, scanning the shelf with a furrowed brow.

“Why are they all so… pink?” he asks, picking up a slim box like it’s oddly delicate.

You stifle a laugh. “That’s an ovulation test. We’re kind of past that stage, remember?”

He gives a small, amused huff and turns the box over, then sets it back with a thoughtful nod. “Right. So the actual test—like, the pregnancy kind—those are…?”

You gesture to the shelf just below. “Here. These are the ones you want.”

Simon picks up a box with bold lettering and a dramatic tagline: ‘Know six days sooner!’ He flips it over, scanning the fine print.

“Six days sooner than what? A full moon? Christmas?” he mutters.

“Than your missed period,” you say, gently taking the box from his hands and adding a second one—this one digital, sleek, and clinically reassuring. “Might as well grab both, just to be sure.”

He nods, still absorbing the sheer number of options. “You’d think something this stressful could at least come in normal packaging.”