Impossible things before breakfast

Other people are not only stranger than we imagine, they are stranger than we can imagine; and we are all too modern to be disconcerted by the each other's kinks. Nonetheless, I read the My Life in Sex column in last Saturday's Guardian with growing incredulity:

That winter, we were staying in a cosy ski lodge when H introduced me to the Moomins. I was instantly hooked. I loved their solidarity, their love of nature, their sweetness, and their white curves – I was astonished to find myself aroused by them. At first I felt baffled and ashamed. But then I started dropping hints: I nicknamed H Pappa Moomin, bought him a top hat, fed him up.

Playing at being Moomintroll and the Snork Maiden, yes, I can just about envisage that; Moominpappa and Moominmamma, surely not! And Moomoinpappa and Little My? Some sort of dominatrix, I suppose ...