Now, if you can get past the utter stupidity of asking the police to investigate something like this, when they are probably busy enough dealing with all the snow-related problems this week's unexpected weather has brought the UK, you might want to ask yourself the following:
What on earth did she expect them to do about it?
Seriously. I understand that she was upset about something she must have spent ages creating being nicked, but realistically, what did she want the police officers to do? Did she want the police to canvas the road to see where the missing snowman might be? There must be hundreds of them in front gardens all over Chatham today - if not thousands. How on earth would they know which one was hers? I can imagine it now...
Policeman 1: That's him!
Policeman 2: No. No, it isn't. He's only got three pebble buttons down his front and our missing person had four. And the carrot nose isn't long enough.
Policeman 1: Maybe, but one of the buttons might have come off, and our victim did say the one we were looking for was wearing a distinctive pink and white scarf. The pattern is exactly the same...
Oy.
Which leads my errant brain onto all sort of stupid ideas, such as snowmen identity parades...
Somebody stop me. I've got to get back to work and finish editing this book.
And I'm over at the Pink Heart Society today, blogging about one of my guilty pleasures and justifying my need to slouch on the sofa with a bar of chocolate and a glass of wine...
1 comment:
Unbelievable!
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