So this all began when I got a call from ma wee mam. Settle in because this is a long one …
“Are you around?” She says on the voice mail. “Can you phone me back?”
So I do … and this is what had transpired:
My mam had been visiting a friend and my young nephew was enjoying the responsibility of being home alone and (dare I say it) peace and quiet.
Anyway, like most young teens he blocked the world out with headphones, YouTube and the silly bam fell fast asleep.
Mum returns home a short time later and can’t get in the door. Yes the dizzy little B locked the door and left the key in.
Now, anyone who knows my mam knows she ain’t quiet. Her fog horn scream through the letter box can’t stir him, neighbours banging on ceilings and floors can’t stir him.
“I have a ladder!” A helpful neighbour suggests. Perhaps going in through the balcony? They return with a two tier step ladder. What in the Hell are they supposed to do with that? Pile on shoulders like circus performers?
So the police are informed. There comes Glasgow’s finest tearing round the corner but of course there’s nothing they can do. Now a fire engine dingalinging, making even more of a scene than my mother already was because did I mention she had hair dye in that needed rinsing?
The fire men manage to get in through the balcony and open up. The police follow in to make sure everything is in fact okay.
“Thank you officers. Thank you ever so much,” mum says in her most queenly voice.
The door of the nephew’s bedroom is kicked open like the terminator. Aaron sits up in bed, sleep dazed and wondering what the Hell is going on.
Queenly voice lost immediately. East end Glasgow takes over.
“You ya stupid looking (enter string of expletives)! Did ye no hear me shouting!”
All I can think to myself is the little man needs to tell me what kind of headphones he’s using. I could use that kind of noise cancelling power. 🤷🏻♀️
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