Rainy Sundays

If I had my way, at least one day of every weekend would be a rainy one.

A really, really, filthily grim, windy, downpouring horribleness that absolutely forbids you to leave the house and try and do useful things, and forces you to stay at home, doing little, saying only what you want to, and napping if the occasion calls for it.

And lets face it, it usually does.
Most occasions call for napping.

That is what would happen if I had my way.
(and lets face it, I generally do).