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.
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.
posted by Alf the Unlucky at 12:29 pm
3 Comments:
I presume the bit about the insurance will be in a future post? Wouldn't want to forget that, now would we?
Oh, I'd not forgotten. Don't want to spoil my vast readership do I?
"finishing an ice cream"? Is Alf so unlucky he has to share his Cornetto? I bet Mrs Alf get the 99 every time, and spends so long the cone bottom goes soggy and deposits the remnants of the mint choc chop on his new chinos. Althoguh saying that I bet napkins were to the fore!
More tea vicar?
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