My dad went to St Petersburg this week. He dropped in on his way back from the airport (while I was at work) and left a little gift for me.
That’s fantastic, I thought. A doll inside a doll inside a doll… Russia… the most obvious gift. Well, knowing my dad, there must be some sort of witty underlying pattern, which will become apparent when I start opening successive dolls.
Dad, I’m sorry that I ever doubted you.