Happy new year
Last night my car was broken into.
Not a stellar moment for 2016, which has been sadly lacking in stellar moments altogether, but one that perhaps sums up the dying moments of a year that has been extremely trying.
I could at this point witter on about celebrity deaths, Brexit, Trump and all the other little 2016 treats.
But in essence, few will have spent New Year’s Eve mourning the passing of the 12 months in which the words clickbait, skronk and scrumdiddlyumptious entered the Oxford English dictionary for the first time.
In fact having my pride and joy (pictured, me in it) entered by bungling criminals (who were welcome to the six month old fry, hair-coated extra strong mint and 50p ice scraper they encountered) may go down as my memorable moment of the year.
Not just because I became a victim of crime.
But because I learned I am also the have-a-go type of furious homeowner who casts aside personal safety for the sake of an ageing sat nav and hundreds of bags for life in the boot.
I had no fear for the car as stealing my particular model is virtually impossible and it immobilised all on its own (well done, clever car).
However, awoken from the deep depths of a dream by the wailing and beeping urgency of the alarm, it took me about five and a half seconds to get my coat and slippers on, charge out for the front doors and run like a crazy lady into the street in pyjamas and with mad hair at half past midnight.
Sadly, alerted by my house lights and scared off by the piercing shrieks (not me, the car), the culprits fled empty-handed, leaving doors and windows wide open, so I wasn’t forced to fight them off single-handedly, which on reflection was probably for the best.
I do have a reluctant admiration for them admittedly – last year I locked my keys in the car and it took two locksmiths seven hours to spring them free.
So I got off this particular experience pretty lightly – well, so the police tell me – I survived as most of us (celebrity icons excluded) survived 2016.
So instead of reviewing miseries of 2016, we should celebrate the fresh new arrival. Have a scrumdiddlyumptious 2017.
This first appeared in the Lancashire Evening Post HERE