The moral of the mysterious returning wallet.

Well. He giveth, then he taketh away, and then he giveth again.

A elderly asian gent knocked on our door yesterday and handed TBM back his wallet. Indside was everything, including the coin.

TBM wept.

The man's English was very limited, but apparently a child found it (in the vague direction points behind our house). I am so grateful for the lovely people who return things and who make up for the gits who steal.

Possibly, the price I have paid for praying to the Gods that the wallet be returned is as follows:

The night before the wallet came back I smashed my car up into smithereens after a horrible row with TBM. He told me to leave and I was drunk so I got in my car and I tried to drive it and instead I smashed it up. Now it's in some garage costing £12 for everyday it stays there, plus 300 quid for the fact that it was taken there. I very much doubt it's fixable.

Worse than this, the insurance I thought I had I didn't actually have, due to some confusion with my broker. So now I am a criminal; drunk driving, driving without insurance. I have to go to court on Friday.

The moral of this story?

Smashing the car could be the price I paid for praying.

However, it's far more likey to have occurred because actually I am a complete and utter twat. If I go to prison, please send me sweets and a Shiv.