Last friday, after a gloriously sunny morning on Bournemouth seafront, my wife and i returned to our hotel where she decided to have a quick nap whilst i ventured forth to wander around the shops.

I'd wandered a mile or two and was halfway home when the heavens opened with what can only be described as a Biblical intensity...lashing rain, thunder, lightning, driving winds and pelting hailstones which lasted for well over an hour.

So there i was, wearing only shirt and trousers, literally soaked to the skin in no time whilst everybody else in sight seemed to suddenly sprout umbrellas and wet-weather gear.

I cowered beneath a bridge and decided to wait for the storm to pass...and waited and waited...i went to light a cigarette but found them all completely sodden, (as was my mobile phone, which sadly passed away within the next few days) so, as the storm raged unabated, i resigned myself to the walk home despite the dreadful conditions...

Which was when my feet started foaming...

Quite why my shoes were frothing like a rabid dog, i'll never know, but mockingly froth they did.

Of course, just to make things perfect, as if being drenched, cold and bewildered were not enough, i lost my bearings and ended-up walking a very long and circuitous route back to the hotel where my beloved wife welcomed me by exclaiming, Look at you! You look like a drowned rat!

Thank-you, dear, i thought miserably, but i'd already guessed that.

drown_rat_cat