A couple of weeks ago, in a pique of extravagance we bought a new kettle. This is extravagant because a) a good kettle in this here town costs much the same as bribing the leader of a small developing country (give or take), and b) the said piece of electrical equipment is likely to live a short yet volatile existence before being spiked by a surge of electricity that will send it to the big appliance store in the sky.
But we bought one anyway. It was too shiny and pretty to resist and we are much like magpies when it comes to shiny pretty objects.
It was not to be though.
My mother blames a bad dream involving a snake and a fire, as well as two thirds of her life lived without electricity.
Yes, people, she put the electric kettle on the gas stove. Went away and when she came back was wondering why the flames were so big.
She ain't never gonna live this one down.
(The photos don't do the carnage justice).