I’m worried. You want to know what I’m worried about? I’m worried that I’m going to run out of new nice things to say about Sharon Horgan and Rob Delaney’s screwy screwball relationship comedy (with occasional screwing). And I’m worried that I might run out of different pictures to run with each glowing review. So far this gem of a show, now quickly into its second series, has not put a foot wrong.

It is even managing to be a bit more serious alongside laugh-out-loud funny. This week, between the filth and the fury of Rob and Sharon's tetchy relationship we saw signs of post-natal depression. Sharon doesn’t like being part of the mummy drummy group in the park but when she tries to befriend someone she thinks she is more like she comes across as way too needy, suggesting family holidays in Cornwall before they've barely met for latte.

Horgan’s storyline is totally credible, while at work Delaney’s is maybe more like a male fantasy. A sexy new French colleague turns up and is immediately attracted to him. Yeah right, we’ve all been there Rob. It might stretch credibility but it is still exquisitely played out.

There are not many sitcoms that I wish I’d written, but this is definitely towards the top of the list. It is painfully smart, painfully funny, painfully accurate, painfully adult and painfully brilliant. The weird thing is that despite the Olympic-standard bickering and bitching and lack of sex between the lead couple onscreen what comes across most strongly is their love for each other. This is a very modern romance. Nothing to worry about there I hope.

Catastrophe, Tuesdays, 10pm, C4.