The front door was open and my parents weren’t looking (No, but really, they are good parents).
I was at the wise old age of two. Walking through the apartment, I looked around appraisingly and decided that the house needed a few things. So, I picked up a bag almost as big as I was and walked out the front door.
Within a couple of minutes, the gaping void left behind by my presence was detected (told you, they are good parents). As a child, I would often hide behind/under various items of furniture in a bid to scare the living daylights out of my poor parents. I am sure we all did. So, the apartment was checked thoroughly but the missing child was nowhere to be found.
Cut to the entrance of our building.
Our neighbours suddenly spotted this wee toddler waddle barefoot out of the building gate, bag in hand. This lady casually wandered over and asked me where I was off to.
I am told I was a very solemn faced child.
“I am going to the market”, I rumbled.
“Why?” she asks. Who does that? Why would you ask a two-year-old her motive behind going to the market alone?
“To buy soap”
This revelation was followed by silence.
I looked behind me and saw my frantic parents barrelling towards me with outstretched arms.
It was time for the punchline.
“My dad sent me”, I said.
Honest to God, they didn’t. They were good parents.
And my house never wanted for soap.