We came back from a week’s holiday in Scotland late yesterday afternoon. We couldn’t get the car on the drive to unload it as the drive is full of skip for debris from the attic renovations. So we parked near the back gate so we could take our stuff in through the back door. Tired and happy, we planned to unpack as fast as possible and get everyone into bed ready for school and the start of a busy term.
As soon as we’d emerged onto the pavement, just next to the churchyard, we realised things might take a while longer than we hoped. The half dozen or so kids playing there were very excited to see us and wanted to fill us in on all the things that had happened whilst we were away. The most prominent episode had been some naughty kids hopping into our garden over the wall and causing some damage to one of our (thankfully) cheap plastic tables. All the kids wanted to tell us the same thing at the same time and transmit their information in those squealy high pitched voices they save for important communications.
It took a while but we managed to convince them that we’d soon come to terms with our loss. After we’d unpacked. Our kind neighbour was also annoyed on our behalf about the vandalism and garden invasion and came to tell us the details. We were just relieved that the Vicar had packed the trampoline away before we left for our holiday, as we’d have been quite sad to lose that. When we go away in the summer we pack away the monkey swing too. Maybe that’s what attracted the cheeky table-destroying monkeys into the garden in the first place…
The Vicar's Wife 
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