I came home from work and bundled Lara in through the front door. She took off her jacket and passed it to me. I took off mine and retrieved my wallet from the coat pocket.
Lara is at an age now where she understands every word I say and can be extremely obedient, if she chooses. I asked her to put my wallet on the table. She politely took it and tottered off towards the table, I turned and hung up our coats.
Half an our later we decided to go out for dinner so I went to fetch my wallet. It wasn't there. It wasn't on the sofa. It wasn't on the kitchen work surface. Or the dining table. It wasn't in the toy box. Myself and Mr. B. searched high and low for 10 minutes.
I asked Lara, "Darling, where did you put mummy's wallet?" and she ignored me, choosing instead to wind, annoyingly through my legs as I started to panic about where the wallet could be.
Finally, I gave up and decided to have another look for the wallet when we came home. Before I left, I fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. Half-looking, I filled the glass from the tap and there, in the washing-up bowl, deep within the murky water of a soaking saucepan, was my wallet.
Good one Lara.
I dried the wallet on the radiator but I don't think the leather will ever be quite the same. My prized photos seem to have just about made it through and even the lone fiver it contained seems to be intact. The only lasting damage was to my Cafe Nero loyalty card - the water washed the ink away from all my loyalty stamps. Goddammit. A lesson learned.
Lara is at an age now where she understands every word I say and can be extremely obedient, if she chooses. I asked her to put my wallet on the table. She politely took it and tottered off towards the table, I turned and hung up our coats.
Half an our later we decided to go out for dinner so I went to fetch my wallet. It wasn't there. It wasn't on the sofa. It wasn't on the kitchen work surface. Or the dining table. It wasn't in the toy box. Myself and Mr. B. searched high and low for 10 minutes.
I asked Lara, "Darling, where did you put mummy's wallet?" and she ignored me, choosing instead to wind, annoyingly through my legs as I started to panic about where the wallet could be.
Finally, I gave up and decided to have another look for the wallet when we came home. Before I left, I fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. Half-looking, I filled the glass from the tap and there, in the washing-up bowl, deep within the murky water of a soaking saucepan, was my wallet.
Good one Lara.
I dried the wallet on the radiator but I don't think the leather will ever be quite the same. My prized photos seem to have just about made it through and even the lone fiver it contained seems to be intact. The only lasting damage was to my Cafe Nero loyalty card - the water washed the ink away from all my loyalty stamps. Goddammit. A lesson learned.
