The View from Parson Street Nose

With the schools nearly back in, all over Bedminster earlier this week desperate mothers were dragging reluctant children behind them as they frantically try to kit them out for the new term.

I saw one little girl in East Street waving a garish spiral-bound notebook over a litter bin and screeching loud enough to make one of the top windows above the shops pop open and a curious face peer out to see what was causing the brain numbing racket.

“I wants the purple one!” the little girl was shrieking. “You know I hates pink.”

Nearly every little girl in sight was wearing at least one item in Barbie pink and they all stared at her in shocked horror.

When I popped into Asda later for a spot of shopping I was deeply engrossed comparing the relative nutritional benefits on food labels.

When I had decided on my purchase I turned to add the jar to my pile of shopping and discovered a teenage girl stretched out, stomach down, across my trolley.

I was lost for words and gaped like a stranded salmon on a bank.

The girl’s mother appeared from behind my back and winched her daughter from my trolley.

“Shanice!” she bawled at the girl. “What ‘ave I told you about laying across people’s trolleys?”

“But I likes it,” the girl whined in reply, producing a scowl that made her look remarkably like a Pekinese pup. 

“You gotta stop it or they’ll ‘ave you ‘rested.”

“It feels nice!”

Other than her strange fetish for lying across trolleys, the girl appeared perfectly normal and I wondered just how much pleasure could be derived from sprawling over a shopping trolley.

I have so much respect for teachers. All the mothers I saw on my shopping trip had just a few children to keep under control - just imagine being faced with a roomful of the little darlings!