Hey Daddy, look! I know that boy, it's Frammond, he goes to my school.
The Little Lady let out an unearthly chuckle entirely unsuited to a nine-year-old girl.
I looked ahead. We were at a new forest play park and before us, various contraptions stretched ridiculously high into the treeline upon which children clambered and scampered with yelps of glee.
And why the evil laugh when you say that, little one?
I looked at her with a half-smile as if she were a lettuce in the supermarket with particularly crisp leaves.
Well, he is one of the shoe stealers in the School playground.
She snorted like something digging for truffles.
A shoe stealer? What do you mean?
She might be joking but the idea of her coming home one day minus one shoe and crying made my man-hackles rise. I gazed over at the little wretch wondering if I was going to have to set the dogs on him. Hiya! You coming over to play? The boy Frammond had caught sight of the Little Lady and was calling her over to some precarious looking scaffold with a rope bridge about twenty feet up. Yay, coming! The Little Lady tore off. I laughed at the excitement of the young and watched her go. It's an amazing age isn't it? Remarked some bearded chap wearing a Gilet nearby. He too was watching the kids in the park with a knowing Parenty smile. I smiled politely, even though the bastard was wearing a jacket without sleeves in the Scottish Springtime. The only time it is acceptable to wear a Gilet in Scotland is in the very heart of Winter, usually whilst chugging pints in a beer garden of a pub. It's a display thing. A bit like the feathered nonsense of a peacock but with more cigarettes and testosterone. Still, despite me not liking parents generally as they are all so child obsessed he looked an alright sort so I grunted a nod of something that sounded like friendly agreement. I mean they are pains in the arses, that is without a doubt but even at their worst, it's a magical age. Gilet carried on chatting as if we were old friends out at sea, hauling at a heavy fish-laden net together. Aye. They are ever so slightly less of a pain in the arse at this age. Which is not bad, maybe by the time they are 18 and leaving home they might be bearable. I said with a raised eyebrow to show that I didn't really mean it. Gilet barked out a laugh and slapped at my shoulder. How you doing anyway, I am Frammond's dad, Jake. Pleased to meet you! He stuck out his hand and I shook it even though something Covid fearing inside me screamed at me to run away from other humans. We shook heartily and chatted like real humans and not worn down nubs of humanity that parents of young children so often feel like. Some ten minutes later of bawdy jokes and shared cussing of jobs and working for a living, Jake motioned at Frammond and the Little Lady. So how do they know each other, School is it? Yeah, School. My daughter laughed when we arrived because Frammond is one of the Shoe Stealers in the playground. I laughed at the thought of someone being labelled a Shoe Stealer. I made to nudge Jake but noticed he had gone quite still and pale. I beg your pardon? He said snibbishly. The Little Lady laughed, she said, 'Daddy, Frammond is one of the Shoe Stealers in the playground.' I mean, she wasn't bothered. I presume it is just a daft playground game? I attempted a jokey smile and made to nudge him but thought better of it. Jake was now breathing heavily through his nostrils as if he were a dog gnawing at a bone that had penis meat on it. FRAMMOND. GET DOWN HERE... NOW! Jake yelled at his son like a fucking madman who had been served what was claimed to be a chicken korma for his in-flight meal. I stepped back slightly. Frammond came scampering over and Jake stormed up to him, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him away. As they left I could hear him bellowing about SHOES and STEALING. I looked after him in some disbelief. He had seemed like an alright guy. Then... Madness! Daddy, what happened with Frammond? The Little Lady yelled from a rope ladder up high. I shook my head and muttered under my breath so she couldn't hear. I have absolutely no fucking idea?!
for the humourless world travelling 'professionals' among you, I don't really have any dogs.