Recently I got down on one knee and presented my boyfriend with some jewellery, and asked if he would commit to caring for a very long, cute, stinky boy.

While this is an apt description of me, I was not asking him to marry me and I was not presenting a ring – I was asking him an even more important question: would he consent to having his phone number engraved next to mine on my long stinky dog’s collar, complete with a cute little heart tag featuring our digits?

I’ve been thinking a lot about relationship milestones recently because they’re a delicate alchemy – rush things too soon in that early romance fever and you could end up sharing a mortgage with someone getting “really into” close-up magic and considering it “could be a whole career”. There really should be some kind of law forbidding you from making big life decisions or operating forklifts when you’re in those early lovestruck days.

When is the right time to meet parents, or move in together, or get engaged? How soon before you say “I love you” or adopt a rescue turtle together, or write your first sappy Guardian article about them? All questions that keep me awake and pacing at night. As a diehard romantic, romcom lover and persistent idiot, I’ve made the wrong call many times, so at........

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