A couple of months ago, Foofy and I had to stay in my old house in Reading on our way to Paris. My BFF, Giraffe, (again, not his real name, but I totally wish it was) very kindly offered his room for us to stay in. Initially, we were going to sleep on an air mattress, but Giraffe expressed a desire to camp outside in the garden because that’s the kind of thing he likes to do. He had recently been to Penzance with his one-man tent and had a whale of a time. We inflated the air mattress, put it in the tent, and, with that, Giraffe went to sleep and Foofy and I slept in his bed.
I am, of course, joking. We slept well, and were excited to begin preparing for Paris the next day. When we went outside to wake up Giraffe, though, he had a very interesting story to tell:
After drifting off into a deep sleep, he was unexpectedly woken up at 4am by a torch shining on his tent and someone telling him to get up. Shocked, he unzipped the tent to be greeted with three policemen. They told him that there had been a burglary in the area that night and that Giraffe was a suspect and they had to search his tent. The reason he was a suspect? Because he was camping in a garden near the burglary. I find this hilarious, not just because Giraffe must have been so surprised when he was woken up, but the fact that the policemen must have considered that a burglar, fresh from a-burglaring, would not only have been too lazy to leave the scene of the crime, but would have had the foresight to actually bring a tent to sleep in afterwards alongside everything he had stolen.
Honestly, burglars today; just lying around!