Door Bell

That time you answer the door early in your jammies, thinking it's a close friend or neighbour.

It's the meter reader man, excuse yourself, move everything out of the way to get at the meter, leaving him standing on the doorstep.

AND your dressing-gown is still upstairs.

Ach! What the hell!

Leave him to it and tidy the mess after a nice cuppa. And there is always a right mess of stuff in front of the meter - who thought it was a good idea to have the meter under the stairs?