I know. Bad person. I feel the heat in your accusatory stare.

Then there’s Pip, my grandson, and his delight in watering the plants, which of course is fine, but watering the plants also seems to involve watering the fence, which I guess is more fun.

I hear your comment: “He’s only three years old. You are a grown adult. Can’t you control him?” To which I provide the immediate answer: “No”.

Are there water-saving techniques I could employ to make up for my failings? My mother, who was English, used to have a plastic tub within the kitchen sink. It would always have some lukewarm soapy water in it, and you’d wash the dishes as you used them.

It used less water than a full sink. The other advantage: you could pour the remnants of a cup of tea into the gap between tub and sink, without mucking up the water.

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I have considered this method and adjudged it “a bit yuck”. It may be a sign that, despite my affection for English comedy and newspapers, for the novels and the breakfasts, I have largely severed my links with the Mother Country. I have made the transition to a brighter, better way of life that involves a dishwasher, plus the occasional full sink to wash the pots.

The toilet, of course, offers water savings via the dual-flush cistern, an Australian invention which has since been exported to the world. Before its development, by Bruce Thompson in Adelaide in 1980, the only way to limit a flush was to fling a brick into the cistern. I have used both methods and consider Thompson’s method to be the superior.

Are there other behaviours I can place on the positive side of the ledger? I have never washed a car, other than for sale. That’s what rain is for. Wait long enough, the clouds will gather, and your car will be clean.

I also haven’t used shampoo for close to 20 years, which almost makes up for the shaving-under-the-shower. I know it’s possible to turn off the tap during the two minutes you are meant to wait while the conditioner does its work, but how many people actually do it? I reckon you lot just stand there, your head full of moisturiser, the only purpose of which is to replace the oils you just stripped out with your unnecessary addiction to shampoo.

Also, another positive: when water restrictions were introduced during the last drought, I assiduously followed the rules, never using the outside hose and collecting shower water in a bucket. It was, admittedly, a strange time: Sydney may have been the only city in the world in which you could be fined more for using a hose to water the garden than for cutting it up to make a bong.

But here’s Shane “Kenny” Jacobson’s point: do we really want to go back to that time? To a time when Goulburn RSL was serving beer in plastic beakers because it no longer had the water to wash the glasses? To a time when some towns ran dry?

If we all developed better habits, we could avoid the next crisis. So here’s to all of us doing better. I’ll go first. I’m off to make a cup of tea. This time, without running the hot tap.