We've all been burgled around here at various times. The people next door had their car taken and installed a burglar alarm, on the other side a bike went missing. We are all jumpy as the newspapers abound with stories about whole houses and garages being cleaned out of their Xmas goodies.
When the garage alarm went off at 3.00 a.m. yesterday morning we were ready. I snatched up the cordless phone ready to ring the police. We sneaked to the kitchen and I pressed the garage opener. I am sure you know the identity of the burglar - as the door glided up and the lights came on the burglar was going into his routine on top of the car - yawning, bowing, that sort of thing. But we were both equally certain that the other was to blame for the burglar's incarceration.
"You locked him in the garage," I growled.
"Did not," growled back DH. "You locked him in."
Didn't, Did, Didn't, Did.
The burglar had marched off down the drive while we argued so we shut the garage and went back to bed.
The burglar's ear-splitting yowls outside the bedroom window woke up both of us.
I gave in, let in the burglar, fed him and staggered back to bed. It was 4.00 a.m. and I drifted off to sleep. I snapped awake. Something was sitting on my face. A ghastly yowling began.
I let him out.