Heroic LOML is hearing noises in his head

Last week, when we were unpacking on returning home from our honeymoon, we heard a tap-tapping on our tiny middle room window and saw a bright light shining through it.

On closer inspection I could see a small group of kids loitering on the other side of the wall, holding some sort of laser pen.

LOML said: “Stay back from that window, I will go and sort them out.” And off he went, with a look of sheer determination on his face.

The next thing I heard was: “Come on lads, move away from here.”

Now, I thought I could hear roars of laughter coming from behind the wall, but it obviously wasn’t, because LOML was very pleased with himself when he returned, proclaiming: “I don’t think they’ll be bothering us again.”

He didn’t see my smile as I trotted off for a bath.

Several minutes later, the youths – undeterred by the fear of God that LOML had just imparted (chortle) were back. This time armed with daffodils.

I could see them throwing the flower heads at the window and then heard LOML marching out the front door.

I could see him remonstrating with two boys adding things like “parents” and “private property” in his diatribe.

Several minutes later, he found me in the bathroom, rubbed his hands in glee, and said: “There were at least ten hoodies out there, but don’t worry I have sorted them out, they won’t come back in a hurry.”

I almost drowned in the bath because I was laughing so hard: “There were two boys, armed with a pen lid and daffodils,” I chortled. “I really wasn’t that scared.”

A few nights later I woke up to the sound of the Dog barking. I reached out to alert LOML but his side of the bed was empty, so I went downstairs to see what was going on.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, in the dark, armed with a torch: “The Dog barked, there must be something out there, but I’m ready for them.”

“Probably hedgehogs,” I mumbled, and traipsed back to bed. And last night, I was just drifting off when I heard LOML moving about. I sat up and caught him peeping out between the curtains.

“I’m keeping watch,” he said. “I thought I heard something.”

We live in the centre of town. I’d be more worried if he didn’t hear anything.

Still, it’s nice to know that he’s there to protect me from all that dangerous flora and fauna out there.

I buried my face under the pillow and left him proudly standing guard.

Readers who submit articles must agree to our terms of use. The content is the sole responsibility of the contributor and is unmoderated. But we will react if anything that breaks the rules comes to our attention. If you wish to complain about this article, contact us here