Mental rambles

My Father worries about me.
It’s ridiculous, but I completely understand.
I pretty much spend all my time worrying about everyone I love as well.
I worry if I’m a good enough Father.
I worry if I’m a good enough son.
I worry if I’m a good enough husband.
I have lots of failings, but I do try.
Hopefully it’ll be enough to keep them all safe.

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.