I thought that by the time I was an adult, I would’ve stopped having the problem of a leaking water bottle. I thought I’d have more sense by now. Or more luck at least. But no.
What did I discover when I got to work last week? All 500mls of lovely, soft, Yorkshire water had escaped the bottle and made friends with the contents of my bag (and yes, that IS a slight dig at southern water. I don’t know how I drank it for five years – nothing ruins your morning cuppa more than a layer of limescale). Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot of things in my bag at the time. My NEW iPad had cleverly jumped into the side pocket out of harms way (thank heavens). But right at the bottom of the bag, the thing that soaked up most of the spillage – my ballet shoes. I could’ve wrung them out. Standing with them under the hand dryer for what seemed like hours got some of the thick off, but sliding your foot into a damp canvas shoe is not the nicest feeling in the world. I’m sure I’m not alone here, there must be a couple of you out there who’ve experienced the same feeling!
It did take me back a few years though; to those times when my dance school performed at school fairs and town events. We danced on all types of surfaces: concrete, wood, grass, mud – I’m talking playing fields, school halls, market squares, down Knaresborough high street, and the list goes on. We had a lot of fun. But you always had to make sure you had your old pair of ballet shoes at the ready. No way could you perform in a field one day and turn up to ballet class the next with grass stains on your shoes. So we were always organised. And a good job too, those shoes got wrecked. They got soggy so many times and leaked through your tights until your toes went numb. Except that one time when we were performing in May and it hailed (thankyou, British summer) – hail doesn’t make the grass wet! And yes it was a bit chilly – but we’re from Yorkshire, we’re made of stern stuff. Having said all that, it was an experience. And I will never forget the time we danced in tutus in a hail storm on my school field.
At least in those days, soggy ballet shoes were left by the front door to dry on some newspaper. My recent issue resulted in trailing footprints all over the studio. Thankfully they’d dried enough to not be a health and safety issue (phew). But it was a fairly unpleasant experience – and I just couldn’t channel my inner ballerina or dingle dangle scarecrow because my feet were so uncomfortable. Which was very disappointing. I love having an excuse to be a fairy on a Saturday morning.
Lesson learned – always check your bottle top is screwed on properly.