KETTLES

Here's a funny thing...

That's funny "peculiar", by the way, but then you probably knew that already, didn't you? After all, it's not as if people come here for funning and japes and the kind of joke that they can pass on to the world.

Well, not unless the joke is me, anyway... Although there's precious little evidence that anyone wants to share me with the world, either...

Now, where was I?

Oh yes...

A "funny" thing...

In our office building, there is a little "common usage" kitchenette containing, amongst other things, a rather venerable "jug" kettle that's probably seen better days. It's one of those plastic ones which sits on a separate round base which is the bit that gets connected to the plug socket once you've filled the kettle with water, placed it on the base, and switched it on.

Now normally, when it's my turn to go and brew up for our coffees, the handling of the kettle, once it's been filled with water, is something which can be done one-handed. The granules are added to the mugs, the milk is splooshed in where applicable, and the switch is clicked and, once it clicks itself off, the kettle is lifted, poured and positioned back upon its cradle without a hitch, and I'll then pick up the coffees and transport them back along the corridor to our little grey box.

Why was it then, that the one time that I happened to be holding a glass of water in my other hand for a colleague who's on a bit of a health kick right now, that the kettle's base insisted upon running (well, sliding) away when I tried to return the jug to its spindle just because (it appeared) and for no other reason than my other hand was full...?

Usually, of course, I would have had a spare hand free for moments like this, when a usually one-handed operation suddenly requires a bit of support from another hand, but, for once, because I was trying to do those two things at once that we chaps are often accused of being incapable, the blooming thing just refused to settle upon its spindle and the base kept on moving away.

In the end, and no doubt in response to the thought you've probably already had "Why didn't you just put down the glass of water?", I put down the glass of water, and swiftly settled the jug part back where it belonged, but it is interesting that my mind seemed unwilling to accept the wisdom of that option during that particular moment.

Perhaps my brain gets too focussed on what it's doing to accept an alternative plan of action (which might, incidentally, be something to do with why people sometimes "freeze" during moments of intense peril…?) or maybe I'm just a bit rubbish, although sometimes I just have to believe that inanimate objects really just do not like me...