It’s the little things.

It’s the little things, always the little things, which ruin an otherwise gloriously sunny day. So I’m going to write about it, in the foolishly optimistic hope that doing so will help calm the maelstrom of rage building up inside of me.

I was in the garden earlier and what with it being all sunny and warm, decided that listening to ‘The World at One’ was called for. I went back inside, got my radio, took it outside, and discovered it wasn’t working. So I went back inside, got my solar powered radio, and listened to the news. Bingo!

After the news had finished, I decided to change the batteries, despite there being a nagging doubt that my use of it couldn’t possibly have worn them out. Or could it? That’s the thing with a nagging doubt; it nags and then doubts itself

Anyway.

I opened the back of the radio and discovered that instead of there being the expected four batteries, there were in fact three. Whilst being momentarily dumbfounded, it soon dawned on me, that this could not have been an accident. I mean, one doesn’t accidentally remove the cover to the batteries and then accidentally take one out. Swearing heralded this realization.

I tried to think of a charitable explanation that might prove satisfactory, but came there none.

Possibly you’re thinking ‘He’s been quick to blame it on a person unknown.’, but consider this. At the same time as buying the radio, I also bought four rechargeable batteries for it, reasoning I could recharge them in one go. Now I’m wondering ‘What possible use could someone have with one rechargeable battery?’

It’s the little things. It’s always the little things.