I’m not a fan of Internet challenges. I’ve never wanted to pour a bucket of ice over my head, gulp down a tablespoon of cinnamon, or plank in weird places (or even plank), but there was one social media challenge I decided to say yes to. The Yes Challenge.

“Yes!” is a powerful word. It’s a word of infinite possibilities, a word that can lead to exhilarating, life-changing experiences.

The rules of the challenge are simple enough. Say yes to anything and everything for 24 hours.

Could I do it? Well, to sorta misquote a former US president, Yes, I think I can. But first, I had to make some rules of my own.

The first rule of Yes! Club is never answering a call from an unknown number, because doing so could involve saying “yes!” to telemarketers. The last thing I need is a 36-month subscription to Miniature Donkey Talk magazine or a two-week timeshare in Orania.

The second rule is not to tell anyone about my challenge. If my children find out, there will be a herd of miniature donkeys running around the garden before the 24 hours are up.

Another rule is that my “yes!” can’t be a lie. I mean, what if I’m on a flight when a panic-stricken air steward rushes into the cabin, turns to me and asks, “Do you know how to fly an aeroplane?”

Having settled on the rules, I reward myself with my first Yes!

9.15am: “Do you want to take the morning off, stay in bed, and watch Netflix?”

“Yes! Definitely, yes,” I say as I turn on my computer and select Hit Man.

10.23am: Just after an hour into the movie, my phone rings. It’s not a telemarketer, so I answer it. It’s a friend who has been trying to convince me to play Padel. But being coordination-challenged and suffering from fear of being laughed at, I’ve always found an excuse to say no. This time, his Padel partner has cancelled, and he asks me to team up with him against his fierce foes, his wife and daughter. “Yes,” I say. I will finish the movie after the game.

11am: I swing, I spin, I hit and lob, and I’m not quite as bad as I feared. By the end of the game, I’m hooked and agree to play again.

12.20pm: As soon as I resume watching Hit Man, the phone rings. I’m on a Padel dopamine buzz and an endorphin high when I make the fatal error of answering. It’s not a telemarketer — it’s much worse. It’s an estate agent.

“I have to say Yes!” I remind myself as I listen to her go on (and on) about it being a sellers’ market and a buyers’ market. I agree to a “free” home evaluation and hand over my email address, resigning myself to a lifetime of real estate spam.

12.51pm: Back to Hit Man, but five minutes later, my 15-year-old daughter walks into the room. “Please take me to the mall,” she says.

She’s on a mission to find “the perfect pair of jeans”, and her search has taken her to all corners of the city.

“Yes,” I say, even though “No Me” baulks at the idea of schlepping from shop to shop on a jeans quest. I pause Hit Man, and daughter and dad head to the mall.

3.50pm: No jeans are good enough. I wish Yes Day was yesterday, I sigh.

3.57pm: She holds up a pair of shredded and ripped jeans. It has more holes than the N2 to Mpumalanga. She has found the holey grail.

“Can I have them?”

“Yes,” I say, making a note to hide them as soon as I get home.

 4.57pm: Back home. As I wait for my computer to switch on so I can finally finish watching Hit Man, I reflect on my yes experiment. The point of experiments is to learn something. So, what did I learn? I learnt that saying yes opens doors for new things, and the more you say yes, the more opportunities come flying through the doors.

There’s an element of risk when you say yes, but that’s what makes it exciting. Saying yes helps us conquer our fears (which is often the reason we say no) and gives us the courage to do the things we want to do and also the things we don’t want to do (but should).

I also learnt that while it’s important to say yes, you can’t always say yes because you will eventually take on too much and won’t be able to deliver on your yesses.

I learnt that you can only really say yes when you have learnt to say no because that’s when your yes is a real yes.

5.03pm: It hasn’t been a full 24 hours, but I realise that I must throw in the Yes towel if I hope to finish Hit Man. Maybe I should have a no-day. Or a no-month. Maybe in NO-vember.

I press play on Hit Man and vow that I won’t say Yes until it’s over. Then Pickles zooms into the room. She places her head in my lap and looks up at me with big brown eyes that plead, “TAKE ME FOR A WALK.” Hit Man will have to wait. Who can say no to those eyes?