“The Welfare Visit”
[Setup – Narrator voice, with a wry smile:]
So the welfare inspector shows up at this tiny two-bedroom flat — cracked windows, creaky floors, smells vaguely of cabbage and hope — and he’s there to assess the living conditions.
He knocks on the door and this lovely woman answers, all flustered, apron on, flour in her hair.
“Good morning, ma’am,” he says, clipboard in hand. “I’m here about the, uh… overcrowding complaint.”
“Oh yes, do come in,” she says cheerfully. “We’ve nothing to hide.”
[Interior – inspector pulls out his pen.]
“Now then, how many people live here?”
“Well,” she says, “there’s me and my husband in the front bedroom.”
“Right.”
“And my eldest daughter, her husband, and their baby in the second bedroom.”
“…Okay. Five so far.”
“Then in the lounge we’ve got my two teenage sons on the sofa bed — that folds out, you see. Though only halfway now. It’s a bit bent.”
“Seven. Right.”
“Oh, and in the kitchen alcove, my Uncle Paddy’s got a camp bed set up — sleeps with a torch under his pillow, bless him.”
“Eight. Got it.”
“Then there’s my brother Tom and his wife — they sleep in shifts in the bathtub. She gets the night shift 'cause she’s got the sciatica.”
[Inspector pauses.]
“…The bathtub?”
“Yes, but only after the kids have had their baths. We’re not animals.”
[Inspector scribbles furiously.]
“And the children?”
“Oh yes! The five little ones share the big wardrobe. Two top shelf, three bottom. We leave the door open, so they get air.”
“…That’s thirteen… no, fourteen?”
“Fifteen, counting Nana — she sleeps in the airing cupboard. She says it’s warm and close to the boiler, which helps her knees.”
[Inspector rubs his temple.]
“Anyone else?”
“Oh yes, almost forgot — there’s Gerald.”
“Donald?”
“Yes, Donrald. He’s a 6-foot-5-inch silverback gorilla with a bandolier of machine guns and an eye twitch.”
[Inspector, stunned:]
“…Where does he sleep?”
[Woman, cheerful as ever:]
“Oh Donald? He sleeps anywhere he likes.”