This is a story.

About why the police came to my door this afternoon and asked if there was a suspicious item in my car. They had received a report and photos of a possibly offensive weapon that I was carrying around, on display.

I was surprised.

But to start at the very beginning, which Julie Andrews says is a very good place to start; around 4 years ago my children would go to a wonderful forest school where they toasted marshmallows over a fire, rampaged through the woods, and built brilliant artefacts of their own design from wood offcuts and paint and extra junk. Child #2 made a whole menagerie of animal families, that almost looked like the animals they were labelled as, once you were told what they were. Child #1 had different goals.

We went to my OH’s parents a few weeks ago and grabbed some items to car boot from their garage. The kids found some things of theirs that they wanted to bring home, and Child #1 was delighted to find his “zombie killing stick” that he had made at the forest school. Said stick is about 3 feet long, about the circumference of my lower arm, has paracord wrapped round one end to make a handle, and, here’s the crucial thing, has red paint splotches at the other end to simulate blood and around 100 nails partly hammered into it.

It was immediately forgotten and left in my boot. When I moved stuff around in the car yesterday I didn’t realise I had left the Zombie Killing Stick perfectly in view on the rear parcel shelf. I wondered why the traffic warden in town gave me an odd look as I got back to the legally parked, in the car park, car with the cat, from the vets. He has apparently taken photos and reported me to the police.

I have to say the police officers were very understanding, and doing their utmost not to laugh when they searched my car. For 15 minutes. With latex gloves. I mean, I’ve seen my car. The latex gloves are definitely warranted.

Child #1 of course thinks this is entirely hilarious and is just pleased that the Zombie Killing Stick has been returned to him as it was not, thankfully, deemed an offensive weapon.

The only remaining question is what item I should next display on the parcel shelf when I park in town. The poor traffic warden clearly is very bored and needs some excitement in his life.