It's mid-January. Christmas has been and gone, and you are no longer feeling festive. All you are feeling is wet. And cold. And deflated.

You set off on a leisurely 30 mile bike ride on the new bike your wife got you for Christmas. You say she got you it - she got the frame. You got the pedals. The wheels. The gear set.

Today was the day. The weather forecast showed cold but sunny weather, not the rain and grey skies that had haunted Yorkshire since New Year.
Everything looked good to go. You set off, your biggest worry being getting mud on your flashy new bicycle. Carbon fibre frame. Aero wheels. Shimano group set.

And a deflated tyre. It always happens when you're at the furthest point from home, doesn't it? Straight over a piece of glass in the road. Undoubtedly, a causality of some New Year's party. Everything had been going so well. The skies had been clear and blue. You'd been zooming along. You're pretty sure even the driver of the Porsche that overtook you was in awe. And then you hit that piece of glass. And then you're tyre began to deflate. And then it started to rain.

It is only now that you recognise your slight oversight. You had bought everything for this bike. Except the frame, your wife had bought that. But possibly even more important than the frame, was a puncture repair kit. "I'm not coming to pick you up," your wife says, as you call her forlorn,"you should have thought of that before you started buying fancy wheel upgrades. And besides, Sarah's coming round in half an hour. I need to be in when she arrives."

Sulking like a little child, you perch on a wall, and stare at your wet wheels, wallowing in self-pity.

You should have bought that puncture repair kit from Halfords.