Today was the annual water fight at my son’s school. In previous years he forgot to tell me in advance, and I’d get a sad phone call at 11 am. “Mum! PLEASE bring my water gun and swimming trunks!” This year he remembered about it the day before. Which was a very good thing, because his big water pistol was broken.
He’s had this water pistol for years, and it’s beginning to look that way. But it fires a long way. Even more importantly, it includes a back pack which holds about two litres of water. We call it the weapon of mass irrigation.
And over the summer, the tube connecting the ammunition to the barrel finally split. So we went to the local iron-mongers – who were out of narrow plastic tubing. But the second iron-mongers we tried had it. So this morning, off he went armed to the teeth, and had a great time.
