My boyfriend and I are respite carers for a young man with a disability. He was eight years old when we first started looking after him one weekend a month, and he is now eighteen. We know that he will try to take the car for a spin if given half a chance, so whenever he stays over we make sure we put the keys in a drawer before going to bed. Twice in ten years we’ve forgotten. The first time, we were alerted to the fact when we heard a car alarm in the distance and saw that the front door was wide open. The second time was a few weeks ago, when we awoke to find our charge calmly eating toast in the lounge room and our Mazda crashed lightly into the front fence.