Sunday, September 7, 2008

the morning after

I nearly broke my neck this morning when I got out of bed and slipped on a boule. Then I noticed half a dozen of them scattered all over the bedroom floor. BB's side of the bed hadn't been slept in but as I made my way downstairs with a growing sense of unease, he walked in the front door - which appeared to be hanging off its hinges.

We left the salle des fêtes separately last night to go to a party just as a huge thunder storm broke. When BB didn't turn up I assumed he'd changed his mind and gone home, so when I was eventually dropped off a couple of hours later and found the front door locked, I banged on the door to be let in. When I got no answer after fifteen minutes, I started throwing boules at the bedroom window (which, thankfully, was open) to wake him up, and when that failed, I resorted to - ahem - kicking the door down. Once inside, there was no sign of BB and I fell asleep.

What had happened was that BB had left the salle des fêtes on his way to the parking when he'd discovered he'd lost his car keys. Not wanting to walk home in the rain, he'd decided to sleep in the car (but only after sitting in the wrong car first - with the owner in it - before realising his mistake).

The comité des fêtes arrived at 7 o' clock this morning to remove the bunting and clean up the field around BB's vibrating car while he lay snoozing in the back.

When all the clearing up was finished BB woke up and went over to the salle des fêtes to see if his keys had been handed in - which miraculously they had. After some saucisse and a coup de blanc he came home to find the front door half-off its hinges, swinging in the breeze.

The worst thing is that the house keys were where they always are - under a plant pot at the front door!

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