Will we EVER learn?

Last weekend, Andy and I went for a walk during a break in the torrential rain.
'Are you taking an umbrella?' said Heather, 'just in case it rains again?'
'Oh, it won't rain AGAIN,' I said, full of the optimism of a crazy fool and off we went.

We got SOAKED. Really rain-running-off-your-face-in-a-torrent soaked.

And then today, Andy and I decided to go for a walk at Leeds Castle, as the annual Christmas Fayre was taking place, which is usually good for a sneaky peak at some seasonal tat. However, before we left, it chucked it down with rain again. I'd already got slightly damp in my pyjimjams when I went to feed the chickens at the crack of dawn, so was keen to avoid another drenching.

'We'll wait to see if the weather brightens up,' I said. Which it duly did.

'Are you going to take an umbrella, in case it rains again?' said Heather.
'Oh, it won't rain AGAIN,' I said, because sometimes I never learn.

Later...

We emerged from the huge marquee in which the fayre was being held, into torrential rain. To the left was a lengthy walk back to the car park; to the right, a lengthy walk to the castle restaurant and lunch. We'd already decided not to get our hopes up vis a vis a pudding, following pudding debacles on our previous two visits. In fact, we'd already partaken of some baklava in the food section of the marquee in lieu of a non-appearing pudding.

We had a moment of dilemma. Whichever way we went, we would get drenched. But one option would at least offer a nice lunch to recompense the drenching. We ran for the restaurant.

It would have been drier to swim to the restaurant via the moat. Soaked to the skin, we stood in the restaurant, dripping on the tiles, waiting for a table because lots of other people had had the same idea and the place was rather full.

But we got our lunch, and very nice it was, too. And then, just as we were getting ready to leave, the waitress appeared.

'Can I get you anything else?' she asked.

Oh, so now we get a chance of a pudding, I thought. Typical!

And as I was stuffed with soup and a sandwich and the precautionary baklava, and Andy was stuffed with sausage and mash and baklava, even though the baklava had walnuts in it, but I didn't tell him this before I gave him his piece, we declined the pudding offer, paid the bill and went on our way.

So just remember this, dear readers: our children are sometimes wiser than we, especially when it comes to matters of umbrellas, and as you never know when you'll be offered a pudding, always carry a piece of baklava, just in case.