Monday, April 25, 2011

She wears Short Shorts - Part Deux (or ASBO stands for Anti Social Behaviour Order)

Another 2 hours before I collect Short Shorts from the party (you'll recall from a previous post that I am waiting up till 1 am!) .

Was that a noise? Jeez it's dark. I don't like being awake past 9.30pm.

I was once in bed in my garret when I heard a crash as though something had fallen from my roof to the patio below. Assuming that it was that bloody fat pigeon again, drunk on the contents of my garden, I ignored it, hoping it was suicide.
Welllll!! It often kept me awake with its strutting and cooing and its lack of respect for the downstairs neighbours as it thundered across the tiles in avian jack boots.

But this was followed by another crash and this time from inside the house.
I was now up to amber post-pigeon alert.
I had considerable experience of this threat level which involved my making the rounds of safety checks wearing a thug resistant dressing gown and carrying a substantial torch, only to discover that the toilet seat had flung itself on the mercy of the bowl when the strain got too much, or that the camping poles that I never get around to putting away, had developed exhaustion from leaning upright and passed out on the floor.

But this time, as I descended to the first floor the ruckus continued to continue in a continuous manner.
I yelled softly down the bannister that I could hear the buggers, but amazingly they seemed undeterred. I was incensed at the cheek of the bloody tykes, but didn't want to damage the torch. I was torn. The sounds of my cupboards and drawers being emptied and the contents strewn upon the floor were unmistakable; the professional sound of right villains and no mistake.view details
I tiptoed to my kids' rooms to ascertain that they had not been stolen. The oldest one is 16 and her brother, 15 months younger, has recently gone from preppy catalogue cherub to brick shit house, so he'd be tricky to pilfer. The little 'un was snoring with her mouth open. Adenoidal music to my ears.
I called the police. The brick shit house loves his mum like a good boy should and so, being the only male in the house, strode towards me to deliver a protective bear hug then handed me his baseball bat and went back to bed, asking me to tell him when the police arrived.view details
5 mins seemed an eternity but finally flashlights surrounded the house and garden. I thought for one ridiculous moment that the 'tea leafs' had called for back up, the dressing gown having proved too much but then I came to my senses. The officers were very thorough and one of them was really quite handsome.

 like the one on the right.

"Love, there's a bin overturned in your garden-think they've been through this way"
"Erm, well actually it's been there for a while...I'm using it as a wildlife tunnel (I've always been a quick thinker). I could bore you with the cliche of the house being in such a mess that, although I knew there was no burglar once I had ventured downstairs, the police could not be. They were so patient about it, ' Better safe than sorry!' and all that. And to be fair to myself, the WPC had a bit of egg on her face as she had been searching the grounds of a different house altogether and turned up telling her tale in great gusts of whispered giggles.

Finally, having discussed suggestions such as a fox had been trying to get into the (upright) outside bins for example - the handsome policeman hovered around for a few seconds longer once the others had returned to their panda cars :)              

I thought 'This is it girl. Brace yourself! You've done it at last. It may not be the most auspicious of starts, but love finds a way.'  He leaned forward to put his hand upon my arm and as my breath quickened and bosom heaved he whispered "Em.. love. I think it might have been you hamster on its wheel. They can make a lot of bloody noise those can," and then he left.
 I felt humiliated "Absolutely not!" I yelled after him  "It wasn't that sort of noise!",  but I was fooling no-one.


I gritted my teeth and walked with seething resentment back to the cage where ASBO Hamster looked like butter wouldn't melt.... She gazed at me, mustering every ounce of adorable that she could - plainly acting as her own defence "What guv? It weren't me guv. Honest! Would these eyes lie? I lurvvvv you," and sucker that I am, I believed her.

That is, until 30 mins later when I was either being burgled again or something else was afoot . When I trudged down the two flights of stairs for the umpteenth time that evening and surprised her with my flashlight, she was gripping the bottom of her metal cage with her teeth and trying to uproot it from its moorings with superhamster force. I'd got her bang to rights!

Chapter 2
I occasionally see the lovely policeman, laughing with public outside the bank or at the traffic lights. I can feel his eyes following me with mirth and I feel certain that he's retelling the 'Night of Nibbles' to the delight of all. I am so ashamed. Especially as, when he did leave the house, I could hear him calling out to question his colleagues in the car "Isn't this the house of the girl who said that we'd find her mate in the wardrobe?"

It is and they did.

Talking of Short Shorts, best go get her. x

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