Later that night when I was in bed, Constable Bathingswaite of the local police force dropped by to tell my parents that the next door neighbors had called the police on me. I was summoned to the living room in my little white nightgown, my hair in a halo around my head, looking every inch the angel that I was.
"Is this the criminal?" Constable Bathingswaite boomed. He terrified me, but he made me sit on his knee while he and my parents had a cup of coffee and a good laugh.
A few years later, I had a severe bout of tonsillitis which required my tonsils to be removed. This was done by surgery under a general anesthetic. Certain anesthetics that are used for surgeries of short duration also have the properties of being what are known as "truth serums". When I woke up from my operation, the nurse standing over me was none other than my wicked neighbor. She looked at me and said, "Do you know who I am?" and I said, "Yes, you're the bad lady who called the police on me!" I couldn't believe what I was saying, and even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I couldn't stop myself. The look of shock on her face is indelibly imprinted on my brain. To her credit, however, she made my hospital stay as comfortable as possible, stopping by my room several times a day with bowls of ice cream and rice pudding.
A few years ago I required an RCMP record check for my job -- through the RCMP Headquarters in Ottawa -- and I was terrified they would find out about my