Today was a bit of a strange one for me and Erin. Work has started on the new flooring, which means we are temporarily without a lounge, and the rest of the house is littered with furniture we’ve taken out of it.
It wasn’t long this morning before we decanted to Mum and Dad’s house for the day to maintain a level of sanity, and keep out of the way.
A day at Mum and Dad’s also means a day with their dog, Pepper, who I love to bits. She’s my reason to go for walks with the pram and get some fresh air.
About ten minutes into this morning’s walk, I heard a wolf whistle coming from a white van that was parked up behind us. Delightful!
This was not my first rodeo, so with the air of someone who is ‘fed up’ with such obnoxious behaviour, I looked back disparagingly and shook my head…only to discover it wasn’t me they were leering at, but the pretty blonde twenty-something jogging by in lycra. Mortified.
Hoping they’d not spotted my over-zealous reaction, I carried on a little more briskly than before - for some reason a little disheartened.
It’s ridiculous, because for years I have hated being subjected to whistles and taunts from the heights of a scaffold, or the window of a passing van. But when it doesn’t happen, it’s a little disappointing.
I think I have now evolved to the point that myself and the scaffold dwellers now just say: “Morning” to each other. And the more I think about it, the happier I am to have moved past this point.
If they stop saying: “Morning” however, then I may start to worry!
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