A WATERING STORY

I opened my eyes. Plants! I thought to myself, They're back tomorrow; I'd better at least have a go with the watering can.

On went the shoes and I slid the back door open. There was a cool night breeze and my Dad's garden wind chimes were singing. The watering can was full. I hoisted it up and made my way around the pots and baskets left for me by the Intrepids. The leaves danced in the shower of tinkling water as I passed by. Dark shiny pools spread under the pots and around my shoes.

There was a crunch. I think it might have been a snail. I made my rounds and then climbed back inside the warmly lit conservatory. Off came the shoes, naturally. You have to draw a line somewhere. I reached for a cup and the one-person teapot.

Hanging baskets. I'd forgotten the hanging baskets. I sighed and looked at the ceiling. They're at the front of the house. The gate was locked so I'd have to carry the watering can through the lounge - there's no way my Mum would approve of that. I slid open the conservatory door again and acrobatically reached for the handle of the half-full watering can. Then, with the greatest care imaginable, I tiptoed through the house, cranked open the front door and went outside to water my Mum's favourite hanging baskets.

I should have stopped to collect my slippers. Or perhaps another pair of shoes, or perhaps even the same snail-encrusted boots I'd peeled off in the conservatory. Or maybe I should have looked for the gate key. None of that; I did none of it. I stood there in the dark, angled the watering can at shoulder height into the first hanging basket... and promptly drenched my socks. The one mistake I promised myself I wouldn't repeat from last time and I had done it again!

Well, once your socks are wet, there's no going back. I watered the baskets, went back inside, tiptoed out to the conservatory and left the watering can outside, next to the water butt. Duty done, mission accomplished. I flicked on the kettle and went to change my squelchy socks for a fresh pair.

It was only as I emerged back into the kitchen that I heard a funny pattering noise outside. I jolted open the back door and stuck my hand out, palm upwards. It was raining.

Unbelievable.