I Think I’m A Little Boy At Heart

What a pity half term is over for the little boys living in our road!

But the elderly gentlemen in the neighbourhood peeping through their net curtains and vertical blinds no doubt displayed the same enthusiasm at the sight of the huge machines that have suddenly appeared outside. Except that they complain of the noise, which little boys would never do. My mother noticed the goings-on when she put her hearing aids in, and almost immediately removed them: sometimes deafness has its compensations!

There was, of course, the usual team of yellow-jacketed men: one driving the digger, one driving the lorry, another sitting in the smaller machine that little boys could identify but I can’t, one operating the pneumatic drill, one leaning on his shovel, and one smoking a cigarette whilst supervising his mates. Or waiting his turn with the drill.  What’s the most exciting of those jobs? The one little boys covet the most? My great-grandson began to sneak into the farmer’s barn and lovingly stroke the tractor as soon as he could walk. He would definitely go for operating the biggest machine, and I can’t say I blame him. I wouldn’t mind having a go at that myself.

When I came back from my shopping trip, and saw the vehicles abandoned at the top of the road while the men enjoyed their lunch break, it took all my willpower not to hijack that monster.

I’m proud to say I resisted. But I have to grin at the thought of the headlines:

Great-Grandmother’s JCB Joyride Causes Havoc

Will I always regret foregoing the opportunity?