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Dib dib dib

My cousin in Brisbane told me this story and it’s about a friend of her’s from back home in Scotland. Names changed to protect the fact that I can’t remember them.

This lady, let’s call her Fiona, is a single mum who’s son… erm… Andrew, is seven. One weekend, Andrew is taken on a cub scout trip, leaving Fiona on her own for the first weekend in as long as she can remember.

Heading home from dropping him off with the troup, she finds a random bloke outside her flat trying desparately to get his mobile to work so he can call a taxi. No joy, sadly. Fiona, though, is a good samaritan and shows him inside to use her telephone.

The next day he leaves. *ahem*

Fiona tells one of her friends the story and the friend asks her if she’s got the guy’s number. “I think so, but I can’t remember his name!”

So she sets to flicking through her mobile until she spots a name and number she doesn’t recognise. “Colin… yes, that sounds familiar.” She taps out a text detailing exactly how much she enjoyed the weekend and what she’d like to do the next time.

A few minutes later, the phone rings and a man says “Who is this?”

“It’s Fiona. I can’t believe you’ve forgotten me already after all the fun we had.”

“Fiona? This is Colin Matthews… your son’s cub scout leader?”

From that day on, once the story leaked, every time she calls my cousin and her husband answers he greets Fiona with a “Dib dib dib!”

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