OTT

At work today I saw a very nice couple with two children and an income of just over £2k a month. He works but she doesn't due to health issues. They are in a lot of debt, not really their own fault, and they end up in the red every month. They are not at all profligate, and neither drink nor smoke. But their phone bills are £120 a month. That's for the two of them and each child including one under 10. All of them have smart phones, and they have broadband with their landline. Later, doing my weekly shop in Waitrose, I parked next to a gigantic vehicle with three layers of seats, two in the front, three behind with consoles in front of them, and another two in the back. I peered in through the darkened windows to see. Regarding both of these things, the luxury car and the children's smart phones, it struck me what a very long way we have come since my childhood, and not that far from that of my childrens'. Three of us were squashed in the back of various cars, some bigger than others, and we squabbled and fidgetted and whined on all long journeys. Holiday entertainment was often a pack of cards and Patience. The house phone was available for use but we got into trouble for making lengthy calls to friends. There were long, long hours and days of boredom and emptiness and silence, but we all read a lot and were thankful for the local library. By comparison, children are treated like royalty these days, even when parents patently can't afford to pay for it. It seems not even to occur to penurious adults that a smart phone is an extreme luxury that the kids could do without. Such relative material riches, so much foolishness.

I left my car at the car wash in Saxmundham while I shopped, but it wasn't ready when I returned despite them not being very busy. The chap working on mine was a very gregarious type, and he talked to anyone and everyone, at length and while pausing over my car. As I waited in the freezing cold I wanted to shout at him, "Shut up! Wash the bloody car!" It's £13 a go, not nothing. Usually I am concerned that some of them might be trafficked, and I look at their body language for signs of submission. But this lot were too damned perky to be there against their will. Nevertheless I did note their hopelessly inadequate clothing in the biting wind, and one in particular whose tracksuit trousers were soaked right up to the top of his thigh. Only one man wore waterproof trousers. All I could think was, where they came from was probably worse.

Hugo was ready for me when I arrived to collect him, and on the way home we stopped at the college sports field for a run. I played my familiar trick, waiting until he had gone on ahead to turn to the other side of the field, and back again several times, causing the boy to gallop long distances to be on the same track as me. The last time he ran back to me he circumscribed a huge circle which caused me to laugh out loud. The more I laughed the more he circled until finally he came to me, executed a turn of 180 degrees, and came to a halt by my knee. Somone has trained him to do this, and I wish I knew exactly what it is. He was so pleased with himself I could only praise him to the hilt. Full of surprises he is. And endless source of entertainment.