Wednesday – Radical Interventions

Rows Nil (V.Good)
Coffee: 6 (Bad, very bad)
Wine: 3 large glasses (hence no rows)
Voice Decibels: 30 (like a perfect harp strumming in the background)
Acting ability: Meryl Streep at Oscar winning best
Genius Levels: Einstein would be proud

I love Wednesdays. Since my new W regime (Wine only on days with a W in it – Wednesday and Weekends) it is a day to look forward to. Son is in impeccable mood as he spends day doing Art and PE, his favourite subjects, and we are spared the normal Daughter stampede as she gets a lie in. I look forward to an evening where I get to have a glass of wine whilst cooking something yummy - and the anaesthesia of my Burgundy makes Husband considerably less irritating. However, today, all is not good in the hood. An Intervention has to occur to keep the Teenagers on the straight and narrow. The Crime. Back doors are being left unlocked.

I stagger to bed, exhausted, at 10pm. My nocturnal offspring rarely concede before midnight. As they often have mates round, they are asked to lock up before they retire. Inevitably, I get up at 0500 and the back door is unlocked, once literally agape. I have asked, told, threatened and bollocked to no avail. They leave their laptops, Playstation and phones strewn around the living room – a self-service display for a would be thief. This Wednesday I’d had enough, and fuelled by my second espresso of the morning, I collected the laptops, phones and Playstation, shoving them in the under stairs cupboard before screaming in mock panic, ‘We’ve been robbed!’

I have never seen the kids move so fast. They raced down the stairs, viewing the neat but very bare lounge, with a look of abject horror.

‘Who was last to bed last night? I asked
‘We both went to bed at midnight’ they replied in unison, still scanning the room like anxious meercats.
‘Did you not lock up?’ I said, my face a perfect mask
‘No!’ they wailed and sat, head in hands mortified at their loss.

Utilising skills not used since I played Mary in a pre school nativity, I sped round the house anxiously to check what else had been stolen. Sure enough the passports were safe, the TV was still there….it’s was just their stuff that had gone. They looked shell shocked. I could keep up the pretence no longer.

‘And that…das kinder ….is what will happen if there really is a burglar’ I gleamed triumphantly, and opened the under stairs cupboard to reveal my stash.

‘Oh Mum!’ wasn’t quite what they exclaimed, once they realised my performance was indeed Act One in ‘How to Persuade Teenagers to Lock the Rear Door’. After expressions of disgust at the time of day, however, there was grudging admiration for my acting skills. And relief that their precious things were still in situ. We agreed the lesson had been learnt.

My early start meant I headed to The Office for 0600. In a rural area Employees have known to be lax on security. Alarm always on. Lock has been left occasionally. New Controller was left to lock up the night previous. I instinctively tried the door – guess what? Knowing New Controller was the first number security would be calling when the alarm went off, I simply pushed the door open and waited. 30 minutes later New Controller screams up to the Office to see me waiting in the car park.

‘Was there a break in?’ he said, a look of panic I’d had already seen once that morning, on his face.

‘Did you lock up last night?’ I asked him, blankly. He confessed, having left his leys at home, he set the alarm hoping it wouldn’t matter, just this once. I explained very calmly that if he wanted to avoid 0600 alarm calls in future he might want to remember his key.

‘Fair play’ he said, taking his jacket off, deciding to save face by starting the day early, 'Fancy a coffee?’

Funnily enough, I haven’t found the back door open recently, and the office is always locked. And instead of being pissed off, both Teenagers and New Controller have dined off the story for weeks. My stance has become the stuff of Facebook legend – the day the MD staged a break in. Genius!