Mental rambles

My family went on a two-week foreign holiday.
My wife, my mum, my dad, my three children and me.
It was to be a two-destination holiday starting in Sri Lanka.
Although it was a long journey: Mini-cab, aeroplane, aeroplane and mini-bus, it was more than worth it.
It took the best part of a day and a night to get there but my parents were great and my youngest two children were amazing.
Even my teenage daughter was pretty good.
We arrived at the hotel, dazed but happy.

I loathe travelling on the London underground during rush hour.
It’s not so much the crush or the crowds but rather having to have to deal with the constant rudeness.
The two examples from this morning are pretty normal.
The first was when getting on a train at my regular interchange; everyone standing was squeezed into the doorway areas. There was plenty of room to move further into the carriage, but a few people were blocking access to it.
My requests to ‘Please move down’ where ignored until I was forced to push past them.
The second was when trying to get off.
Those self same people crowded by the doors stood still as statues despite completely blocking the exit.
Why not just step off and then back on again once the way is clear?
It’s not just the ignorance that upsets me; it’s the look of outrage that they should do something to make others lives easier.

My Brother has a built-in SatNav in his head. He can navigate through towns, cities even continents without any worry or doubt.
His memory, sense of direction and knowledge of landmarks is phenomenal.
My Father’s the same.
Me?
I get lost turning around.

I took my six-year-old daughter to yet another child’s birthday party on Sunday.
Usually these events are an opportunity for the wealthier families to flaunt their wealth and try to outdo each other.
This party was at the other end of the scale.
The family were Japanese and perfectly nice people, but they had hired a hall that was having building works carried out.
The car park was a mess of mud and broken paving stones.
The hall itself was cold with two permanently open exits. Neither of them watched.
They had hired an entertainer, and she was OK, but it was just her and about thirty children.
They were all given large foam balls and plastic hula-hoops to play with and encouraged to run around.
On walking into the shrieking chaos, my daughter turned and begged me not to leave her.
I didn’t.
I wouldn’t of even if she hadn’t asked me.
I watched a dozen children hurt themselves and there were lots of tears and arguments.
How many other parents stayed?
Two.
I wonder what the others were doing that was more important?

No, not what you’re thinking.
I sat down on the train on the way home and somehow the armrest slotted into my front pocket.
Annoyingly the distance between the seat, my bottom and the armrest was about an inch too far.
Riiiiip!
Embarrassing but worse, the material ripped rather than just the seam.
One pair of suit trousers ruined and one suit jacket now redundant.

I’m trying to watch less television nowadays.
Just films and programs that catch my interest on the TV pages of the newspaper.
I watched a program on the BBC last night about two young soldiers recovering from horrendous injuries.
Tom and Andy.
Both had lost their legs. One of them had also lost his left arm; the other had been partially blinded.
Their heroism left me sad but amazed.
I truly hope they both live fulfilling lives.

I was surprised to find a flock of about thirty geese wandering around a school car-park on Saturday. They were in a closed off section, but people could still wander through.
I was lucky as I was on my way to a children's party with my boy and we happened to have some bread with us.
The geese were quite bold and gratefully took the small pieces of bread from our hands. My boy did shriek a bit when the birds got a little too aggressive, but overall he was pretty brave.
We spent about a quarter of an hour feeding them.
Would it be weird to say that it was my favourite part of my weekend?

My children travel to three different schools every morning.
My eldest walks herself to her coach stop.
My youngest gets driven by my wife.
My middle child gets the bus with me.
Initially we considered getting a second car but I was against it.
It would just necessitate me driving back home after dropping her off and I'd be even later for work than I currently am.
The added bonus is that we get to chat and play while waiting for and riding on the bus.
The small walk at either end isn't problem as she gets to run and walk along walls.
Most parents seem to forget how precious this time is.

I walked my daughter to school today.
We met up with one of her friends, her Mum and her dog.
The laughed together and whizzed along on their scooters.
Everything was fine until about two minutes from the school.
The other little girl tripped and fell off onto her hands and knees.
She picked herself up, wobbled and then collapsed.
I ran and gathered her up before giving her to her Mum.
‘Stay with me.’ She commanded her six-year-old daughter.
I stood uselessly holding both scooters, my daughter and their dog.
After about three minutes the little girl recovered with no sign of confusion or injury.
Her Mum told me that it happened whenever she injured herself and sent her through the school gates.
If it had been any one of my children, I would have taken them straight to the hospital!

I was arguing with a friend the other day about who had the worst memory.
I contested that mine was worse due to all the blows to the head I’d received in my life.
He insisted his was poorer due to all the alcohol and drugs he’d consumed.
We argued for ages.
I can’t remember who won though.