“Only a shower.” That’s the kind of thing my mom said all the time because it rains a lot in Devon. Where I used to live, in London, where my dad still lived, it hardly ever seemed to rain, and even if it did it hardly mattered because you could always hop on a bus or a subway that would take you exactly wherever you wanted to go without getting a drop of rain on you. In Devon, you had to walk places—or kill yourself biking up hills. If I moaned that I didn’t want to go and do something or that I wanted a ride because it was raining, that’s what my mom would say: “It’s only a shower!” It meant, “Get on with it.” Simon, on the other hand, could never leave it at that. Example No. 1 Simon: If you were going to a music festival, you wouldn’t be bothered by a little rain, would you? Me: Well, as I’m not allowed to go to festivals, I wouldn’t know. Example No. 2 Simon: So, Ruby, how come you don’t mind spending hours in the shower, but you’re bothered by a little rain?
