Saviour of the world [England is evil 10]

In England I find that the establishments we frequent do no provide napkins without some positive request on behalf of the patron. I feel exceptionally grumpy as my brain has been turned to mush by the latest mantras:- “Roger! Over and out!” with accompanying hand gestures and microphone voice, interspersed with “intruder alert! Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” in perfect Dalek, every time someone comes too close.

I know I shall be a complete basket case by the end of the day or deaf.

We sit in the café by the beach in the rain, a picture of misery, although that’s probably just me.

The first time my exceptionally clean son helps himself to a wad of paper, I lecture him on recycling, deforestation and scarce resources. “Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Intruder alert!”

As usual, no-one is listening. “Roger! Over and out!”

I stomp back to the counter in a huff to return them to the dispenser.

Back at our table I find my older son, the filthy one, wiping his mouth on his T-shirt with a fully exposed tummy. I immediately spout on the subject of unnecessary laundry, water and detergent usage with thinly disguised grumpiness. I plod back to the counter for one more leaf of napkin.

When I return the little one grins at me, “intruder alert! Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” I expect a sense of humour failure very shortly, but I cannot see his brother, with his face hidden by a bowl as he licks the platter clean to the wrathful glances of other guests. I show him my best pouty expression with hands on hips for extra emphasis when he volunteers, “save trees use tongue!”

I shall resolve to try harder to avoid typecasting my children.

“Roger! Over and out!”