Set the scene: we woke up to yet another sunny morning, glorious. Mrs CT decided it was her turn to get up and ‘Bagsie’ sun beds. I could hear her ferreting around and mumbling to herself. This went on for a good 15 minutes, meanwhile all the good sun beds were being reserved. “What’s the matter”, I asked. “I can’t find my bra”, replied Mrs CT.
The Investigation: a bra hunt then ensued for a half an hour at which point I called time and told her to wear a different one. Mrs CT grudgingly agreed. We went to reserve beds and then to breakfast, but Mrs CT was not happy. Unsettled, I would describe her mood. As soon as she could she finished her breakfast and went back to the room. She reappeared 30 minutes later, without the bra.
So I sat her down and tried to methodically take her through the sequence of events of when she last saw the missing bra. “It was on me”, was her reply! Exasperated I continued, and managed to work out where she had got undressed but all trails went cold when it got to the point about where she put the bra. “The bra would not be missing if I knew that!”, Mrs CT replied.
Conclusion: that evening whilst getting ready to go to dinner, Mrs CT went to the safe to retrieve her jewellery and purse. And guess what……..there was the bra. Yes, locked up safely the night before, in the bloody safe. Why? Who knows! Even Mrs CT cannot understand why she had done this. “Old-zheimers” she announced.
PS This Blog was actually written by Mrs CT herself as, quite literally, I couldn’t be bothered today!