Categories: uncategorized
Date: 07 July 2006 22:58:55
You may have gathered that Tiddles, as well as often driving me to distraction, is the source of a great deal of maternal pride. Today was just one of those occasions.
We arrived home after a very successful riding lesson, with a quick turn around ready to take Smudgelet to Cubs. There seemed, however, to be a bit of a stir in our little cul-de-sac, with various neighbours running back and forth to one of the bungalows, home to a lovely elderly man who lives alone. As plenty of people were there I hesitated to go over, mulling over to myself whether I had any skills or anything to offer the situation that the others may not have or whether I'd be a spare part. Deciding that my experience looking after Dad might come in useful, plus my knowledge of First Aid, I decided to go over and see what was happening.
The neighbour had, apparently, become unable to get himself out of the bath. For the first time ever he had accidentally left the key in the lock of the front door so, despite neighbours having keys, nobody could get in to rescue him. It looked as though the fire brigade would have to be called.
But then we spotted the window.
It was a tiny bathroom window. In fact, as I look at my computer monitor, I reckon the widest gap the window would make was only about half as big as the monitor itself, and fairly high up too. How could we possibly make use of this, what did I have to offer the situation? Well, I had a son. A son who is often teased by his peers because he is so wiry and small of stature. A son who is sensible, agile, determined, and can be very mature.
The first attempt was not successful - he sort of got stuck in the hole! But he worked out how to do it - we had to turn him upside down and post him in! He landed in the bath with the old man, was amazingly unembarrassed by the situation and spoke very reassuringly, explaining what he was doing and making sure the neighbour was OK. Then he made his way round to the patio doors and worked out how to open them (not easy) and let the frantic adults in. I was able to draw on my experience with both my mum and my dad, both of which I'd rescued from the same predicament before, and was able to lift our neighbour to his feet. Fortunately he was fine - found the situation rather funny, in fact - and came dressed in a warm towel to chat with the assembled neighbourhood in his kitchen! He was very appreciative of Tiddles' part in the proceedings and complimented me on having two "very civilised" children with whom he was happy to share the street. :o)
Back at home, we congratulated Tiddles on his heroic act. "Yes," he said, "I think I'd make a rather good burglar, don't you?"