96. 15.04.2012 Tales from the Jetty. Part 2.

96. 15.04.2012 Tales from the Jetty. Part 2.

The Tantrum.

After covertly watching a man casting off for half an hour – read in to that what you will – my ears were alerted to an incident taking place at the other end of the pier.

Mummy, the mummy’s mummy, (the correct  term is  grandmother if you wondered), sprog on a lead  and a mystery relative  decided a walk to the end of the jetty to stand and watch the man fishing would be an excellent way of spending two or three hours. The sprog on a lead was less keen though.  Perhaps it had experiencing the standing on the end of pier lark in the past. Once bitten, twice shy and all that.  

The sprog was only prepared to walk to the end of the pier if it didn’t have to hold another person’s hand. Mummy explained that the sign said that children can only go on the pier if they hold mummy’s hand (John overheard that bit) but the sprog was having none of that nonsense either.  And so the lead came out and the thrashing sprog  was leashed to a choke chain, the likes of which the RSPCA have since made illegal for dogs.  It didn’t help and despite a firm talking to, the sprog was determined that the best place to be was 50 yards in the other direction which also happened to be 50 yards closer to Cadwalader’s Ice Cream parlour

A full-on tantrum at the beach is highly embarrassing for those directly concerned, but outshines Punch & Judy for everyone else.  Whether we admit to it or not, we all enjoy watching what my mum used to call ‘a scene’.  Even though we don’t know the circumstances, we all secretly like to shake our heads and  comment under our breath.

“everybody’s looking at you thinking ‘look at that baby’”  (it’s a two year  old)  “you’re spoiling it for everyone”  (two year old’s don’t, as a rule of thumb really care about that though) “don’t make me have to shout at you”  “I’m going to count to three”  “well when we all go into the ice-cream shop and get an ice-cream you can sit and watch us eating ours”  “right if this carries on I’m taking you  to the adoption agency and getting another  child”

After I’d watched the episode unfold for half an hour, during which time the sprog had been thrown over the side of the water several times and coiled back in on the extendable child  lead, John came back from the newsagent on the corner with an orange ice lolly.  So, I had a tantrum.

I asked for a red one. Not an orange one. I wanted a red one. He was eating a red one. I wanted the red one not the orange one.   I was aware that the sprog on the end of the pier was watching me, shaking it’s head at me.  It’s been a good few years since I’ve been marched back to the car and told to stay there.  It’s also been a good few years since I’ve had my bottom tanned in public.  John seemed to have no shame though.

PS, have you noticed how big the little boy on the left is? Talk about a cuckoo in the nest.  Either that or his flying saucer is parked on  the front.