You're lying in a lovely deep hot bath. You can hear the birds chirping and the soft "wap, wap" of the occasional tennis ball from the park next door. You are super relaxed.
Then you hear a sound not unlike an air-raid siren. And you just know. You know that the 11 year old has inadvertently let the bunny escape. Bugger.
You leap out of the bath (well, living on a busy road with a park nearby if that bunny gets to the gate it's gone!)...and still dripping you run downstairs, into the yard and yes. there is the Sciowly Teen trying to tackle aforementioned bunny, who deftly twists away towards the pool. Nooooo!!
You make a grab for the speedy fluffy butt, succeeding only just. With the squirmy creature pressed to your still damp torso you pop the wee f**** back into the hutch.
And the kids, rather than saying "thank you" loftily advise that next time you help maybe you could put clothes on first.
Oh, and we don't have one bunny. We have two. Daisy and Gretel.