Leith Walk and environs have become an impassable warren, courtesy of the Tram Travesty blighting Edinburgh for the third year running. In the midst of the chaos, on Annandale Street, I was idly watching some road rage spilling over between White Van Man and Silver Vauxhall. I saw arms going up and down out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head, and saw noticed Green Golf Dad. He was keeping one eye on traffic and one on the two car seats in the back seat. I realized while I was watching his arms pump up and down and up and down that he was singing. After a minute or two, I saw a couple of sets of chubby little arms pumping up and down and up and down right along with his. “The Wheels on the Bus” : I had a eureka moment and a flashback. He kept singing, and smiling, through four changes of the lights. Four changes, no movement, during which all of the other adults in the vicinity were mutating into malignant radgies.
Roll on, Green Golf Dad, and may all the nappies you change be pee ones.
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