I was eight years old. Not very sporty, but I had been given an old lace-up leather football. I spent one wet and windy afternoon kicking it around the local park. There was not one puddle that had not been splashed. I arrived home, bouncing the ball in front of me.
In our entrance hall, I gave it an extra hard bounce and it rose up to the ceiling. I left a perfectly round mark and imprint of the laces. I stood there in horror.
My mother saw the mark and uttered the words that have stayed with me for over 50 years -
"I spent all morning, on my hands and knees, scrubbing that ceiling!"
Regards
Chas