Thursday, 30 July 2009

Mother Grasses On Son


Son is noble, honest, self-sacrificing. "You have to tell them, mother. I will accept my fate like a man, transportation to the colonies being no less than I deserve. Hanging is too good for what I have done."

Mother also noble and self-sacrificing, though somewhat less honest, is impressed, overcome with pride at Son's manly courage, but demurs. She will take the rap for Son's criminal act.

(Note: Son rarely drives, and Mother rarely speeds, so neither worry too much about points on licences.)

Enter K the stern magistrate, who tells Mother that perverting the course of justice and covering up a misdemeanour is Not Allowed. Son must suffer the full force of the law. K will stand down from the bench should I appear before her court, and will sit at the back instead, sniggering. K has shared this sorry tale with brother in law, also a magistrate, and both laugh like drains and predict a long-running saga of police pedantry and bureaucratic complexity. And they should know.

Spineless Mother caves in, preferring stigma of being a grass to that of a felon. Rings Police HQ in the morning and confesses all*. Then has to provide Son's details in writing, so that he may receive his very own frightening notice with its big black lettering declaring Intention to Prosecute.

Son then reverts to normal mode, and while still being noble and self-sacrificing, emails Mother with rant about police. No swear words, but terms are included like:

little bureaucrats
stupid
vindictive
pointless
punitive
supplementing the coffers of

and is signed off as 'Bitterly....'

But
Mother knows that along with the frightening form, a fierce little leaflet will be sent to her Son, dealing in a no-nonsense way with any emotions that usually arise when one is caught out, for example: "So you're p***ed off that you got caught? Ha ha - you broke the law-aw!!" The police have customer relations down to a fine art.

Also, Mother has forgotten to emphasise to police that Son will not be able to present his documents personally in Newcastle, now that he lives in London; the worst is anticipated
, and she looks forward to the emails that will result.

*Charlotte, she of the Handsome Young Policeman boyfriend, advised sympathetically that I should go in person to the police to confess, wearing my slippers, mad hair and clothes, and clutching numerous carrier bags. But isn't that my Sainsbury's look?

3 comments:

Linda said...

I'd have gone with Charlotte's option - much more fun!
I will tell my sister about this episode - she can then wonder what her sons would have done in the circumstances. I suspect one would have owned up, one would have allowed her to take the rap. A bit like everything in their lives, really.

Charlotte said...

I think you should have gone with your slippers, you should have had 1 pair of specs on your head, one round your neck then just wearing your glasses like normal, when they asked you to fill in any paper work you could have protested that you could not as you didn't have your glasses with you. You could have had loads of random crap in the carriers like pineapples, old newspapers, other scrunched up carriers and half filled pop bottles. They may have carted you to St. Nic's but I think it would have been worth the risk x

Isabelle said...

Oh dear oh dear oh dear!! Little did I think when I suggested our wee outing that it was going to cause such problems. I'm so sorry. I suggested getting the train because it would be - um - simpler.

Sorry! Sorry to Lovely Son!

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