Every Friday evening, Robbie’s Mum and Dad did the weekly shop at the local supermarket, whilst Robbie stayed at home with Annabelle and their Grandma Susan.
But this week, Dad had a business meeting at the local golf course, Annabelle was at a friends and so Robbie had been drafted in to help Mum at the supermarket.
Robbie didn’t understand how a business meeting could be held on a golf course. If one person hit it right and the other left, how could they talk about business. And surely all their papers blew around in the wind. But never mind, Dad had had a talk with Robbie and given him a very important task. Robbie was to look after his mother at the shop. Dad had explained about pick-pockets and Robbie was to keep a close eye whilst his mother selected all the food that they required.
Robbie was going to take this job very seriously. He would need a weapon in case of pick-pockets. He decided to experiment in his room.
He was considering taking his telescope, but accidentally poked Bubbles the cat in the eye. Bubbles shot out the room and crashed into a rubbish bin, a rocking chair and knocked over a pile of DVD’s as he fled from the house.
Robbie decided it would be best to leave the telescope at home. Robbie looked out a catapult that Mum had told him not to use indoors, but Robbie pinged the elastic band on to his hand which rather hurt.
After much thought, Robbie decided that a water pistol was the thing to take.
What should he put into it?
Robbie decided on lemon squash.
He’d once spilled some lemon squash on to a small cut and it had stung quite a bit. He filled up his water pistol and slipped it into his bag along with a packet of plasters in case anybody got hurt.
At the supermarket, Robbie hung a pace or two behind Mum. Mum got a little cross thinking that Robbie was not keeping up, but Robbie was scouring the area for potential pick-pockets.
He first suspected a little old lady who was walking slowly with a stick. He thought she was wearing a wig as a disguise, but when he jumped in to pull it off, he discovered that it was attached and the lady gave Robbie a sharp tap on his ankle with her stick.
Then Robbie suspected a man in a suit with a briefcase, that might be where he would hide the stuff he had pick-pocketed.
Robbie sneaked in and opened the briefcase, but lots of papers fell out on to the floor along with what looked like a squashed gooseberry sandwich. Robbie apologised profusely as the business man aimed a sly kick at Robbie’s back-side.
But then a figure appeared around the end of the supermarket aisle. Dressed as a security guard, Robbie knew that this must be a pick-pocket and that the crackling radio was just to lull innocent customers into a false sense of security.
As the security guard walked past a large tower of canned peas. Robbie drew his water pistol and shot the security guard clean between the eyes.
The security guard staggered back, stumbled into the tower of peas. They began to topple and almost in slow motion crashed to the ground. There was absolute bedlam. The security guard lay on the ground with cans of peas sticking out between his legs, under his arm and one somehow balanced on his nose.
Nobody had noticed what Robbie had done and his mum whisked him away from the carnage.
Robbie thought she was a bit mean not to say thank you.
At home that night, Robbie thought it strange that mum was telling dad about a drunk security guard at the supermarket.
Robbie hadn’t seen that and why didn’t Mum tell Dad how Robbie had fended off an evil pick-pocket?
Robbie decided to keep quiet and went to bed proud of the job he had done.
© Chris White
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