¿Agua, por favor? they asked.

Thank God, I had several icy cold bottles in the basement fridge.

I dutifully made sure that everybody got one, all the while reflexively chastising myself bitterly - yet inaudibly - for failing to recognize their thirst that late afternoon.

Then I came to my senses with all indignation and excuses ...

"Who'd expect such warm weather in March? Where are their coolers?! Why should I be expected to ...?"

"And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because he is a disciple--amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward."

Is this the reason that rainwater is dripping into my kitchen?