I have conceded several times on this blog that my son looks nothing like me.
And, not surprisingly, I am far from the only one to have noticed. Indeed, this fact has been pointed out to me so often in recent weeks that my stock response has been to suggest that Boris Johnson is the man really responsible for Jamie's arrival in Yorkshire.
All frightfully amusing, I'm sure you'll agree.
However, less than an hour ago, I was sitting in a chair at Jamie's nursery trying to get him into his coat, whilst he waved and smiled at the other parents walking past with their beloveds. All very endearing.
But just as I got his second arm in, the front door swung open and a somewhat rough looking bald man appeared.
Jamie's face immediately lit up and his free arm began to wave frantically in the man's direction.
And then the immortal word shot out of Jamie's mouth.
"DADDA!"
Talk about feeling crushed.
At least Boris could have paid to put him through private school.
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