Sid emptied the kitchen battery drawer and tested every cell.
He made one pile that worked, one that was dead and a third that puzzled his wife.
Those batteries barely lit a torch, but Sid put them in a separate tin.
His wife asked what he intended to use them for….
Sid had finally agreed to sort the kitchen drawer.
His wife, Joan, found him at the table with a torch, a battery tester and three old biscuit tins.
One tin held good batteries. Another held the dead ones, ready to take to the recycling point.
The third contained four weak batteries.
Joan asked why he was keeping those.
There’s still something in them, Sid said.
Not enough for the torch.
They might suit something smaller.
Joan brought him the television remote. It worked once, then stopped.
Not that, she said.
Sid tried a pair in their grandson’s toy police car.
Its blue light blinked. The siren gave a faint squeak and fell silent.
Perfect, Sid said.
Joan asked whether he wanted her to buy fresh batteries for the car.
Certainly not. These are just right.
He put them back in the third tin and closed the lid.
Joan reminded him that her sister was bringing a birthday present for their grandson on Sunday.
She’d mentioned an electronic drum kit.
Sid took a pencil and began writing on the tin.
Joan looked over his shoulder.
What are you calling that collection?
Batteries for presents from your sister.
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