There is a different pace to life for those who don't work. As the wee man and I wonder around the streets on our daily walks we see all sorts of different people. The desperate housewives trying to look cool in the place that's the place to be. Stay at home mums frantically trying to catch their children as they dart off into the shrubberies of the local park. And elderly people who mostly hold us up as they search for the money they defiantly think they have seen in their purses that morning. We also however get to see students.
This weekend sees the return of them to our city and this morning the wee man and I saw a bit more of one student than we would want to have seen. Some of the places we need to be are in the major student area of the city. This morning we returned to the doctors to pick up the prescription that we excitedly put in earlier in the week. On our walk home we were greeted by one drunk male student hanging out a first floor window with his penis out shouting 'Don't pretend you're not impressed' at a group of student girls walking in front on us. None of us are impressed as the boy stands there laughing. The wee man being in the front facing position of the pushchair sees it all and I quickly try to lower the visor. I try to give the student my best 'It's 10:30 in the morning and you're drunk and naked and this is also a bit of a family area' scowl but he doesn't care. I almost feel sorry for him, if you're that drunk at 10:30 in the morning it's going to be a long day and it might well end up for you in hospital.
'That is not a civilized act' I tell the wee man as we walk on. 'Let's return to our nice quiet middle class family area son, where The Guardian is the only paper to sell out from the supermarket on a Saturday morning.' 'Babababa' He replies which must mean 'Well said Dad I quite agree'.
I hope beyond hope that the wee man doesn't lower himself to these things when he is a student and if he does I really really hope I and The Chancellor never find out. Anyway we must return in two weeks for a doctor's appointment which means we must play the gauntlet of student flats again and I have to practice my scowling.