STEVE CANAVAN
Ihave high hopes my son Wilf may turn into a criminal mastermind and earn us loads of money. Let me explain. I went to Marks & Spencer the other day, not to do any shopping but just to wander around and get a feel of what it’s like to be middle class.
But as I was there I thought I’d pick up a couple of bits and bobs – cheese, milk, and some fancy bread so pricy I was disappointed not to cut it open and find chunks of gold in there.
I didn’t stay in the store long because Wilf – whom I was pushing (I don’t mean I spent the entire time roughly shoving him in the back; he was in a pram) – was getting restless and, judging by the smell emanating quite strongly from his being, needed a fairly urgent nappy change…
On the upside this quite horrific odour ensured all fellow customers correctly social distanced and stayed at least two metres away from me, so every cloud...
Anyway, I paid for my items and left the store, bidding a fond farewell to the female member of staff lurking by the doorway.
All shops now have to have this kind of bouncer-like person by the door to make you wait outside until someone leaves, ask if you want a basket or trolley, clean the handle for you, request you use hand sanitiser and then finally – once this kind of Guantanamo Bay-style grilling is over and you’ve passed a lie detector test – you’re allowed in the store to actually do your shopping.
I whipped off my mask as I stepped into the sunshine and strolled the half a mile or so back home, only bending down to look at Wilf as I was yards from my front door to discover he was holding an oversized greetings card that read: ‘Sorry You’re Leaving, Wishing You Luck’.
I hadn’t purchased the card, and realised the little blighter must’ve picked it up as I was walking around the store and had happily carried it all the way home.
Now, I’m no thief but had it been a nice card I might have been tempted to keep it and stay quiet (come on, Marks & Spencer is a huge organisation and makes loads of money, and, plus, I reckon they owe me after charging me so much for the bread).
But to be frank, the card was pretty hideous and more to the point I don’t know anyone who is leaving us (well, apart from the girl who works on the till at my local WH Smith’s, but I don’t really feel as though I know her well enough to buy her a leaving card; after all we’ve never actually spoken and I only know she’s leaving because she was telling the woman in front of me in the queue when I popped in the other day to buy a dot-to-dot puzzle book for my daughter. Giving a giant £3.50 leaving card to a woman I don’t know might freak her out a bit).
More pertinently though, if
I’d kept the card, I would’ve been fretting about it all night. I mean who’s to say it wasn’t picked up on CCTV and that armed police were not already on their way to my accommodation to apprehend me and lock me up for 12 years, serving six with good behaviour. So despite the fact it was dinner time and by this point Wilf was very hungry as well as extraordinarily smelly, I trekked all the way back to Marks & Spencer and approached the woman on the door who I’d bid farewell to half an hour earlier.
‘I’m awfully sorry,’ I said, ‘but my son here must’ve picked up this card while I was doing my shopping and I walked out of the store with it.’
I thought this might make her
This quite horrific odour ensured all fellow customers correctly social distanced… so every cloud
smile but it didn’t.
In fairness she wasn’t being unfriendly, I just don’t think she understood the concept of what I was trying to say, for she stared at me with a slightly disapproving and puzzled expression.
‘Do you want to bring it back then?’ she said.
‘Erm, yes,’ I replied, ‘I didn’t pay for it. And I don’t want it either.’ This bamboozled her further for she looked confused. At this point I decided to thrust the card in her hand and hot-foot it from the scene before she reported me to her line manager.
On reflection, I’m actually proud of Wilf. He showed excellent sleight of hand and it’s good to know if we hit financially difficult times, there is a natural-born thief in the family who will be able to provide for us.