Bit of an odd one this - but I'll proceed nonetheless.
Right, Vanessa, Jamie and I were sitting with John in his smart "single professional man pad slap bang in the centre of Cardiff" (as I described it last week) on Saturday evening waiting for a taxi to take she and me to Cardiff Bay for dinner - John was being a nice Godfather by agreeing to babysit.
One of the many mod cons John has in his aforementioned "single professional man pad etc etc," is live CCTV pictures of the main door to his apartment block beamed straight to his telly. (Nope, I've never seen that before either - channel 7 is what you're after if you ever pop in).
We still had a few minutes to kill before the arrival of our chariot when I suddenly thought it would be "absolutely hilarious" to ask John to take Jamie downstairs to the front door where the two of them could wave at the CCTV camera. Meanwhile, Vanessa and I would put on channel 7 and enjoy surely the single funniest moment of our collective lives. (NB - we had been in the pub for part of the afternoon when, incidentally, the nice picture above was taken).
Whilst John and Jamie were in the lift en route to the front door, I decided to ready the camera to take some pics of the two of them doing their stuff.
I mean, could my little idea get any more amusing?!
Well, at first, it was funny - what do you think?
And here's another one - not bad?
However - and here's the thing - the four or five other shots I took were different to these two photos but very similar to each other (if you follow). And what they showed was basically some grainy images of a man, whose features you could not make out, carrying our baby out of a building and into the night.
Let's just say, when the penny dropped at what I was looking at, I sobered up and felt quite sick - at precisely the same moment. By the time John and Jamie arrived back, both with huge smiles on their faces, I was as white as a sheet.
Still, you live and learn - and I've learnt, for the good of my health, not to try that one again. Bloody hell.
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