I sometimes wonder if I’m fit to be let out on my own. Mrs P was away for one of her summers jollys in Anglesey this weekend so I took myself off to Stockport unaccompanied yesterday, an accident waiting to happen.
It started off quite well as I arrived earlier than usual and it wasn’t as busy, perfect for a lazy stroll around the shops, even if it was raining. The trouble started when I went to M&S.
Perhaps I was being overly ambitious in deciding on an unaccompanied coffee in the café, but I was only carrying one bag and figured I could manage to carry this and a cup and saucer from the counter to my table. What blinding over-confidence.
I’m still unsure what happened next. I was reaching for the saucer when I let my attention drift for a fateful second and the next thing I knew, my fingers had slipped and their was coffee splashing in all directions.
This was pretty embarrassing, as you can imagine, but even more so when the manageress insisted that I go round the back to the kitchen. Some of the coffee had splashed on my hand and despite my protestations that I was perfectly okay, she insisted that I hold my hand under the cold tap, no doubt suspecting that I was planning to sue M&S for serving coffee that was dangerously hot.
I probably should have left immediately to cover my shame, but I couldn’t because I’d ordered a toastie which I had to finish before I could creep away.
My clothes whiffing of spilt coffee, I had a few more errands to run before I could go home and that was when my second lesson in being unable to cope alone was dealt me.
I had been wearing a rather nice cream-coloured woollen jacket which now had a darker coffee-stained cuff and I decided to wash it. I’m no expert with the washing machine, but I know how it works, or so I thought.
I loaded it into the machine and set it at 30° as I’d been taught by Mrs P. That seemed to go okay and then, as it was raining, I put it in the dryer. Big mistake. I now own a nice woollen jacket that is one or two sizes too small.
So it was with some relief when Mrs P arrived home later that evening. Heaven knows what damage I could do myself if she’d gone for a long weekend.