Of sarcastic reviews. Why won't people leave poor Peter and Katie alone? They're simple, money-grabbing, publicity-hungry vultures, just like you and me.
This is where I drop my facade of superiority and admit that I LOVE Katie and Peter. Every fibre of my being screams a protest but I really want to be their friend.
I daydream frequently of a life where the boy and I go to their Surrey home and have dinner (probably fajitas from a kit or pasta and sauce, washed down with Tesco Finest wine) then Kate and I sit and talk about the state of the American modern novel and Almodóvar, while Peter and the boy probe the finer details of visualisation and kernel development.
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