"Margret flooded the kitchen last week. Turned the taps on, put the plug in the sink, and utterly forgot about it (because she'd come upstairs and we'd got involved in an unrelated argument). She goes back downstairs, opens the door and - whoosh - it's Sea World. The interesting thing about this is, if I'd flooded the kitchen, it would have been a bellowing, 'You've flooded the kitchen, you idiot!' and then she'd have done that thing where I curl up in a ball, trying to protect my head, and she kicks me repeatedly in the kidneys. As it was, however, there's a shout, I run downstairs and stand for a beat in the doorway - taking in the scene, waves lapping gently at my ankles - and she turns round and roars, 'Well, help me then - can't you see I've flooded the kitchen, you idiot?'"
Taken from:-http://www.mil-millington.com/ - fantrastic read to get lost in for a few hours.
Anyway that is me last year - when I cut through the side of Thea's pool with the lawnmower and 50,000 litres of water started pouring down the garden washing away the topsoil!
I'm stood there with the lawnmower yelling across the garden at Brendan to HELP ME, simultaneously trying to have enough wits about me to remove the lawnmower from said raging torrent of water before it remembers that it is not an aquatic lawnmower but a normal petrol engined one accustomed to dry air and remove the handy up until now cable tie that is acting as the override on the dead man's handle on the mower, whilst also desperately racking my brains to remember what is stashed in the barn that is plastic and waterproof that I can wedge against the split in the side of the pool to prevent all the water washing away the pumpkins and artichokes so inconveniently placed on the downhill slope and inadequately equipped for white water rafting. Meanwhile Brendan wanders over with empty hands and most helpfully in the circumstances points out that I have cut through the side of the pool. Well bugger me, I hadn't even noticed!