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So yesterday, I was downstairs in the morning, and a bloke came to the door and rang the bell, but I didn't answer, because I was in my pyjamas, and therefore not wearing much, and you should never open the door to male strangers whilst not wearing much.
So I went upstairs to get dressed, and I heard the front doorbell go. And then the back doorbell again. And then I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth when I heard a clattering on the roof, so I went back into my room, and the bloke was on the roof out side my window.
Bit alarming, but I leant out and asked if I could help him (years of good upbringing, what can I say?) and he kind of looked at me in surprise.
And then he said he was looking for his football.
A likely story.
What was he doing on the roof, then? And he looked to be in about his early twenties, I'd say.
But I didn't say anything, and then he went away.
When I told my parents later, they shouted at me for not phoning the police. But it's not really necessary.
And the funny thing is, I wasn't scared.