I had a phone call at work today from my elder son. He doesn't go to college on Wednesdays, so was under orders to tidy his room. He took rubbish out to the bin and the front door closed, locking him out. Luckily, one of his friends live round the corner and was in so Callum went there and phoned me to tell me where he was and could stay there until I returned at 6.00.
What we really needed was Kieron....burglar extraordinaire! On a couple of occasions he has gone to the rescue of my neighbour when she has locked herself out in her back garden and has called for Kieron's help: over the 7 feet gate and fence at the back of her house, slide through the fanlight into her conservatory and act like the Milk Tray hero by wrestling with the multitude of locks on her front door before running back through my house and into my garden to tell her that she was saved.
Until Kieron was about 8 he could also fit most of himself through the cat flap in my back door, often making me jump when I saw him poking through the door. He can contort himself into the weirdest positions to get into tight spaces and became quite an expert at scrambling into the boot of my car if the keys were shut inside.
He just couldn't get out the final time.
That's so hard to accept, isn't it? xx
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