I drop Jamie off at his pre-school club thingy at around 8.20 each Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday morning before heading off to get my train. Now, it seems that he is the last to arrive at his pre-school club thingy, meaning there are generally no other parents around as I walk back out of the school gate. Also, because school itself doesn't start until 9am, there are no other parents or kids yet arriving for the real thing. But the road outside is still very busy.
However - and herein lies the problem - the school lollypop man starts at 8.25. And, by the time I get Jamie out of his coat, sign him in and get myself the hell out of there, it is 8.25 and our hero is fully in position at the zebra crossing. At the other end of the zebra crossing (where the traffic are obviously obliged to stop anyway) is the shop where I now get my papers, meaning that I have to cross it.
I don't know whether Mr Lollypopman sees me as a means of knocking the cobwebs off the old lollypopping muscles. But he now insists on stopping the traffic on my behalf with his big pop, walking half way across the road with his arm around my shoulder and waving me on my way.
Lovely man, but I'm not convinced he knows I'm 40. Either that, or he thinks I'm even older and he's training me up. Neither is good.
