My nephew ...
age about 8, one snowy winter those many years ago, was chucking snowballs at passing buses. He and his little brother were having so much fun building up supplies of "ammo" that they failed to notice the police car pulling up.

Officer exits car, informs lads they are in big trouble, and demands to know where they live. Not the brightest kids, they're about twenty feet from their own front door.

Two wee boys, heads hanging in shame (or fear more like) are marched home.

Brother-in-law opens the door, is confronted by his wee lads apparently under arrest, and before he can say a word, the copper launches into a full blown lecture on the subject of parental control/discipline. B-I-L recognises him, but can't get a word in edgeways.

Finally, he runs out of steam. The boys are hauled indoors, knowing they're grounded - at the very least.

B-I-L closes the door, but not before reminding the cop that boys will be boys, with the question,

"Don't you remember me from last summer when your lads broke my windscreen throwing stones? At least it was only snowballs mine chucked!"
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Fri 18 Apr 2008, 17:49, Reply)