KITCHEN SINK DRAMA

In the run-up to Easter, the most holy time of the Catholic calendar, we are meant to reflect upon our sins of the previous 12 months and repent. In the olden days, monks would go through villages flagellating themselves on behalf of the general populace. In modern times, with a shortage of monks, the anti-globalisation movement have taken it upon themselves to make the ultimate sacrifice and remind the rich bankers of their sins. I had a p.c. (no stamp, natch) from my nephew Scrumpy, who is back from India and girding his dreadlocks for some big gathering in London next week. His handwriting is dreadful, but it looked like "in case of arrest please post bail" ... ? These young people speak a language all their own.

Strange things are happening in my kitchen. It started a few weeks ago - just after the beginning of Lent, as it goes. I noticed a small puddle of washing-up liquid on the front left-hand corner of the kitchen sink, you know, that little flat bit where you dump your teabag. It was early in the morning and I wasn't totally compos mentis. I wiped it off and thought no more about it.



About a week later it happened again. This time I was a little puzzled, and could find no indication where it had come from. The washing-up liquid bottle was in its usual place at the back, between the tap and the wall. There was no leak, no little telltale river of stickiness. Just this little patch of viscous yellow liquid on the front left-hand corner. I wiped it away and quickly forgot about it.

The third time, last Sunday morning, I really started to be concerned. The washing-up liquid bottle was sitting at the back, the kitchen sink was quite clean except for this patch of viscous yellow fluid. It was inexplicable, unless .... no, it couldn't be ...

This was starting to look like ... stigmata.

I raised my eyes to the ceiling, just to check if there was anything dripping from immediately above my head, and held both hands out palm up to check to my right and left. At that moment a shaft of sunshine hit the kitchen window and a passing boom box filled the air with heavenly voices. Well, hip hop, but it is 2009 after all. I felt like the divine St Dorothy just before the Holy Mother in the form of Glinda, the good witch of the East, bestowed upon her the ruby slippers.


I am thinking about contacting the Vatican. This could be a real moneyspinner. Busloads of Austrian tourists would be queuing up the stairs to file reverently into my kitchen and witness the miraculous golden liquid appear on my sink. Perhaps I should keep it curtained off and only open it once a week at a particular time. A video link to the street outside might be required. I could even be .... (more heavenly voices) ... beatified ! .... my kitchen would become a place of pilgrimage, like Fatima or Knock. I could have thousands of tiny tin medallions made up embossed with the sacred bottle. Doing the washing-up could become a sacred ritual. I know it's a bit unorthodox for the church to endorse a cleaning product, but the bakeries and winemakers have been doing well out of it for years.

Who says there's no such thing as miracles? I am now scrutinizing my bagels more carefully.