Mysterious Plastic Bags


It’s funny how you get up in the morning and you have absolutely no idea what little dramas lie ahead of you.

Which is in itself a good thing.

Otherwise, some days, I might not get up at all. 😉

Today, so far, has been another entertaining day. Eating lunch with three of the four children, I looked out of the window and observed two suspicious characters removing large carrier bags from the boot of their small car and heading off toward the river bank in front of our house.

A few minutes later they both returned empty-handed.

Now I am known for my somewhat wild imagination (for proof just read I am not the only one at home) so of course, I had to wonder what their plastic bags had contained and more worryingly, where those contents had disappeared to.

My children, containing my DNA, also became interested and suspicious. While I jotted down the car registration number, for the impending police enquiry, they offered to abandon lunch and ‘pretend’ to play outside in a bid to see what the two evil criminals were hiding.

Being the good mother that I am, I took the door off the latch and ushered them quickly outside.

Unfortunately, the one who actually acts, was at that moment, acting at drama class and the ones who over-act, took centre stage. Their ‘game’ being that of spies creeping around and quickly hiding behind a bush.

I know, because I stood behind the net curtain, looking for signs of danger.

What I naturally didn’t hear, through the double glazing, was my son calling to his sister “Lori…” then changing it to “Lily…” in an effort to protect her identity.

The devious duo departed and my children ran to the ‘dump site’ and found…

Ash.

In a rainbow of colours.

This, in turn, caused further speculation.

From cremated bodies to barbecue remains to destruction of evidence of some atrocious crime.

Furthermore, living in a nature reserve, I felt the need to tell somebody. So I called my husband. And he in turn gave me the number for the police.

Who in turn tried not to laugh at me.

Four-year-old Akasha, informed me I should call the police again, but I declined.

Ten-year-old Aden, continually washed his hands because, naturally, he had explored the pollutant with a full ‘hands on’ approach.

Meanwhile twelve-year-old Lori I mean Lily, went back to eating lunch.

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