As I was sitting on the sofa, watching Wimbledon and listening to the rain hammer on the window, I had a blinding flash of inspiration.
This would be a perfect time to wash the car. A sponge, some soap and it would be done. No need to cart buckets of water through the house, the rain would rinse it for me.
Waterproofs donned, sponge and car shampoo in hand, I headed out, and five minutes later, the car was clean. Well, cleaner than it has been for a while anyway.
But from the looks of the passers by, I can only conclude that washing one’s car in the rain is not the genius move I had assumed, but instead an act of utter folly. Maybe my OH is right, and I really am a strange creature. All I know is that in my world, it still makes perfect sense.