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This reminds me of something that happened to me when I was 7 years old.
Are we all sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin....
One day, when I was sticking my nose where it didn't belong (as young
boys and cats are prone to do, usually with the same results) I found a
****ny silver badge of a horse with wings. Being curious, I took the
badge to my mum and asked her what it was. "It's your father's cap badge
from when he was in the army," said mum. "huh?" I said (or words to
those effect, not being aware of what an army was at that age). So
mother dutifully explained that long, long ago in a far away land my dad
used to jump out of aeroplanes and fight bad men, and his friends
(called the paratroop regiment) had these badges of Bellerophon riding
Pegasus (I knew who they were, being a precocious child interested in
astronomy and Greek mythology) on their caps (or berets).
"Cool" I thought, "kudos!" (or words to that effect, seeing as I still
think kudos is a cheap aftershave.)
"Can I take it to school and show it to my friends, mum, eh mum, please
mum?" badgered I.
"Ask your dad," said mum, dutifully passing the buck, wisely.
Needless to say, dad, being a bit of an old softie, said yes.
So, the next day I trotted off with the cap badge in my pocket and
showed my friends, as well as a rather unpleasant, kleptomaniac little
turd known as Scott McLachlan (and if you're reading this, I hope you
rot in hell you dog-shagging paedophile). He looked a bit like Elvis
Costello with thick NHS gl*****, but that's where the similarity ended.
Nevertheless, I took pity on him (being naturally naive) and I suppose
was his best friend.
Anyway, at lunchtime, young master McLachlan said in tones (looking back
with wiser eyes) echoing serpents who tempt you to eat fruit and old men
who tempt you to eat sweets, "Why don't you leave the badge in your desk
at lunch. No one will know it's there. It'll be safe"
"True" I thought, "nothing would be worse than carrying it around in my
pocket and losing it". So I left it in my desk while I had lunch.
Guess what folks? When I went to get it after lunch - it was gone! No
****.
I had nothing; no badge, no proof, nada. So I had to go home that day
and explain to my dad that I had lost his cap badge (who was kind,
understanding and forgiving for losing something that was very dear to
him and completely irreplaceable, and for that he will always be a god
to me).
Anyway, the moral is - something may be safe, secure, defended, secret
and untouchable, but as long as two people know where it is and both may
have a key, you may as well put your knackers on an anvil at the mad
blacksmith convention.
For those still awake, you may be interested to know that after nearly
30 years of carrying around the guilt of losing my dad's precious
keepsake, I finally tracked down another cap badge (which wasn't easy
due to reasons I won't go into), and presented it to him on mum & dad's
50th wedding anniversary last year.
He was suitably unimpressed. Which just goes to show that when someone
is forgiving for losing something precious, it probably means it is more
im****tant to you than it is to them, so don't waste 30 years feeling
guilty over it.
The End
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