The Great Escape 2

£460 that little escapade cost. It was obvious from the way the glass had shattered that it wasn't safety glass so it would have been unwise not to replace both windows. Time to call the insurance company, surely that's what we pay premiums for?

"I'd like to make a claim on my home insurance."

"What was the problem?"

"I was locked out the house and had to force my way in via the rear French windows and the glass smashed. I'd like to make an accidental damage claim."

"Ah, well, because you broke the glass it's not covered. It's not an accident."

"Hold on, I didn't say I broke the glass. I said I forced the door and the glass accidently fell out. I'm not claiming for the damage to the door."

"I'm sorry, but it's consequential damage and not covered."

"What was I supposed to do? I was locked out by my children! Should I just deduct it from their pocket money?"

After further pleading by letter and telephone the insurance company still refused to accept my claim. We parted company immediately afterwards.

The Great Escape

Cast your minds back to July of this year, the hottest July on record (which means that, predictably, the Family Alf's summer holiday was booked for probably the wettest August, certainly in North Wales).

Anyway, back to the story. Mrs Alf and I are sat at the bottom of the garden in the shade one evening (on my new patio - all dozen slabs of it) finishing an ice cream. Time is marching on and we decide we really ought to get in and bath the children (these being 6 and 4 at the time) before bed. Having seen them go in a little earlier we assume they are either watching TV or up in the study on the computer. Then we find the back doors locked.

These are French-style doors and after much rapping on the glass and shouting there is no response. I go round the side of the house to the front. The 6 foot gate is locked so I have to haul myself over. Peering in at the front window they are not in front of the TV so they must be up in the study. Of course the front door is on a Yale lock and I have no key on me, and there is still no response when shouting through the letterbox. Mrs Alf is getting concerned they may not actually be in the house, but I remain convinced they are upstairs. The study is on the top floor of a 3 storey house. I try throwing small stones at the window to get their attention to no avail; I know full well that anything thrown by me big enough to carry all the way will go straight through the study window. Behind the locked gate Mrs Alf has now reached DefCon2.

And then a police van draws up. With the 2 little monkeys inside.

My son had obviously locked the back doors and with his sister in tow went out through the front and down the road. He'd managed to lose her, and a passer-by had seen my daughter and very kindly took hold of her, called the police and helped round up my son. The PC who brought them back was quite understanding when he saw the situation and said I shouldn't be too hard on my daughter (the younger of the pair) as she was very switched on and told them exactly who she was, where she lived and her parents' names. He had called us but we couldn't get to the phone. For obvious reasons. Fortunately, they were both back in once piece to our immense relief.

At this point we are still locked out the house so I had to scale the locked gate again and force my way through the back doors. I gave it a huge yank to break the inside bolts...and the door glass shattered.

The Beginning

I suppose it all started with cars. If anyone was going to get that call from the garage, forewarning that the simple, routine service had just turned into something horribly expensive, it was going to be me. Friends then noticed a pattern of events and so the name Unlucky Alf was born.

I say born. Plagiarised would be more honest. The name, of course, is taken from a character in the BBC comedy sketch show "The Fast Show" and it just seemed rather appropriate to them.

We're not talking about major tragedies or serious calamaties - there is an underlying sense of proportion in this blog - just a series of low level minor irritations. So after some prompting from this same group of friends I've decided, perhaps rather rashly, to commit them to a more permanent form. As various mishaps befall me I shall share them here for your entertainment and my ritual humiliation. I'll no doubt add other inconsequential ramblings as the mood takes me.

A small group of friends have been a party to most of these minor and irrelevant incidents. They may even appear in posts from time to time. Having originally all worked together we retain an email Forum communicating on a regular basis and where the latest Alfisms are disseminated. I know I can count on them to remind me of the embarrassing details I somehow forgot.

Time to access the archives, I suppose, and dig out the latest happenings in Alf World.