They say truth is stranger than fiction; sometimes, it’s on par.
I laughed when I saw this cartoon, for something similar once happened to my mother.
Forty years ago, we had just moved to Runcorn and Mum had met our new next door neighbours but no one else. She answered the door one morning and there stood a strange woman, holding a plate containing an egg and two bacon rashers.
Stranger: Can you please help me? I’m a bit short for my breakfast; have you got a sausage to lend me?
[Bemused] Mum: Um, erm, sure, yes, hold on a sec.
[Laughing] Neighbour: Oh, that was Irene*. Don’t worry about it: she came to me for the beans!
Irene and her family eventually moved to a better part of town, into a large, posh house. I wonder how many neighbours’ sausages helped to pay for it?
*Names changed to preserve privacy: ‘Irene’ is still alive; no doubt living on the neighbours’ Overnight Blueberry French Toast (breakfast has changed a lot in forty years).