‘SHAMELESS BURGLAR HELPED HIMSELF TO FOOD AND DRINK’
That was a comment seen in the local newspaper which reminded me of an incident that occurred when I was a young child.
It was war time, which meant that Mom and Dad had to work. I was farmed out with family friends for most of the war years but things happened that my mother talked about for many years.
Today the above headline caught my attention and reminded me of something that was talked about for years.
The house, of course, was empty with everyone working or being farmed out, which gave a burglar a wonderful opportunity to help himself to a change of clothes. My Dad’s clothes, naturally.
Mom came back from work to find what she called ‘a proper cheek’. That’s not what I would have called it, but then I was too young to give an opinion.
The scene: the lounge. On the armchair was a dirty pair of trousers and a ragged jacket, placed carefully with its sleeves on the arms of the chair as if for all the world someone was sitting there. On the floor was a pair of well-worn shoes placed in the position of someone sitting there. On the seat of the chair was a note on which was scrawled … THANK YOU!
How about that for nerve? A guy breaks into a house and promptly steals my Dad’s clothes, leaving his own for someone else to discard. Nothing else was stolen.
It happened almost eighty years ago and, of course, the identity of the scruffy but well-mannered guy was never discovered.