The Building Inspector

When I emerged from the back door and cautiously picked my way over the piles of sand, gravel and cement on our building site this morning, the building inspector was already awaiting my appearance rather impatiently.  He had been waiting since sun up, he said, and did not like to lose productive hours at the beginning of the day.

Fixing me with a severe look he introduced himself as "Scratch, just Scratch".

He added that he had some tough questions for me :

No 1  :  Why were items of clothing being left on site overnight?

No 2  :  Did I not agree that the dignity of the workmen was being damaged by providing them with pink and orange drinking cups?

No 3  :  Why were wheelbarrows being left in poses that resembled (whisper it) fierce dogs that could scare an unwary inspector in the dim light of dawn?

No 4  :  Did I think that it was in order, to venture out every morning to photograph the progress of the building work, brick by brick?  Did this not imply a lack of trust in the builders?

I soothed his ruffled feelings with a chilled saucer of milk and and after another spinestretching roll on the grass, he fixed me with a level stare that left me in no doubt that the next inspection would be extremely exacting.

 Inspection over and without any further ado, the building inspector sprinted off to his next appointment.