I might get into trouble for revealing her secret identity to you, but my wife is Wine Woman.

She has several wine-related powers. I already knew about the super-hearing; Jane can hear a bottle of wine opening from 100 yards away. Even when asleep, even when engrossed by Kevin McCloud on the telly, she’ll perk up and look around at the merest hint of a foil being cut or a screw-top being turned.

This weekend two more powers became apparent. Yesterday she demonstrated her amazing quick-thinking when faced with wine-based emergencies. I was clearing the dining table and accidentally knocked over a glass, spilling about a mouthful of wine all over the tablecloth.

“Don’t worry citizen!” she cried (I may have imagined the “citizen” bit). “There’s more wine in the fridge!”

No concern for trivial matters such as the state of the tablecloth or any possible damage to her husband, she cut straight to the essential fact that only a small amount of wine was wasted.

I think this is refreshingly clear-headed. For example, I can’t imagine Superman, on turning up a minute after a busload of kids plummet off a cliff, exclaiming “Don’t worry! I can get more kids!” No, he’s too bloody touchy-feely.

Then this evening I opened a bottle of wine to put a little in the chilli I was making. Remarkably, Wine Woman didn’t hear this, presumably due to the lead-like properties of Radio 2 which I had playing in the kitchen. The cork looked a little odd, so I had a single mouthful to check that it hadn’t gone off.

Ten minutes later I wandered into the living room and, in a random act of affection, leant down and kissed my wife on the forehead. She smiled, and then frowned. “You’ve had wine!”

I’m thinking about making her a costume, maybe Threshers will be interested in a sponsorship deal.