...when you answer the door at 3.30 Sunday afternoon. In your dressing gown. And slippers. To The Cat's Mother's ex. He was here to collect a book for The Cat which she had left in a bag attached the front door knob. I had arrived home, assumed someone had left it for The Cat so took it inside.
No doubt he and the Mrs Ex spent the journey home speculating why anyone would answer the door in their dressing gown in the middle of the afternoon. I hope it was a stimulating conversation.
The answer is simple, I'd arrived home earlier after a very hard and long rehearsal, soaked to the skin and aching in places I didn't know existed. I thought I would have a bath, but discovered after it was run and I had stripped down that all the hot water had been used up long before I had even turned the taps on. So I simply slipped into my very fetching dressing gown whilst the water heated up. Obviously.