That phone call that every parent just loves to receive from their young adult – that one who’s decided they don’t want to live with you because they don’t like your rules (you want them to get a chower when they come in from work, not invite women back to their room in the middle of the night when their younger brother is in the room nextdoor and to return used cups to the kitchen after they’re been used – that kind of thing).
A phone call that says ‘I need you to come now, |I’ve been attacked and the police are here’. Oh great.
So I drop everything and jump in the car – send me the address I’ll be there. He’s staying with ‘a friend’ 12 miles away. He has his car and he’s telling me he has to get his stuff out of the house asap. Not knowing what I’m driving into I’m on my way.
On my way to an estate know to be one of the drugs capitals in the area. Great.
Luckily the police are still there ‘holding the peace’ when I get there. 4 officers, 2 cars. He looks OK and all his stuff is wither in his car or waiting to be loaded into mine. In it goes – and before long we’re off home.
Unload, throw him a sandwich and he’s off to work – late for his shift behing the bar at the local caravan park. See what this morning brings…
My 2020 Story 