storbarnsförälder

So we went to visit a friend, and on the way Linnea and I posted leaflets through the doors we passed. Until I came to a door with the keys in the lock.

I knocked and called, and got no answer, so I called the non-emergency police number to see what I should do. I really, really didn't want to either open the door myself and shout, possibly finding scenes of terror and destruction within, or post the keys in and lock someone out for hours. I had both children with me.

The pleece said I shouldn't open the door or post the keys in, too, and took the letting agency's number and then called me back. Basically, they gave the letting agency my number, and the tenant phoned me to say "please keys" and I returned them. When I got the tenant's call I did ask what house number and what kind of keys, because I am paranoid, and when he came to collect the keys he tried to show me his driving license to prove his ID and address, which I thought was rather sweet. He was apologetic and kept saying it was his fault I'd taken his keys away (just down the road a few doors, but even so) and I think he thanked me.

So that was exciting.

The good news is, Linnea enjoyed playing postmans, so we will deliver more leaflets tomorrow. I really can't keep track of how many I'm using, though, because I don't have enough hands and with-it-ness.