UPS AND DOWNS IN THE PARK

The last time I wrote about the etiquette at swing parks, I almost sent one reader to sleep (see comments here), so please read with caution. 

Back then, I commented on the joy a parent feels when they see an empty set of swings.

Well, imagine my sheer surprise and delight when I arrived at King George V Park recently to find that the brilliant and beautiful Parks Department had ditched two of the swings for older children (or adults) and replaced them with two brand new infant swings to up the total to four. Had the Council been inspired by my musings again? 

There wasn’t a parent I spoke to who didn’t share my joy. The most popular part of the park had just doubled. For those not quite sure what I’m going on about, it’s the equivalent of the Council deciding to refund six months’ worth of Council Tax. 

Would she, or wouldn't she?

One Saturday morning, I took the Little Left-Handed Tea Drinker to the park along with another Dad with his son who had had the same idea.  

Whilst pushing the swing, I noticed a woman walking around with a clipboard. I thought it was slightly odd but felt safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t enter the infant park … or would she?

In she came and quickly approached me and the other Dad, waving her clipboard. She was here to acquire signatures in protest against Royal Bank of Scotland's expected planning application for the Eyre Terrace/Dundas Street site.

Now, I have my opinion on this development and I’m usually happy to support local campaigns. but there is a time and a place and these were not them.

The woman started quoting some pre-prepared statements about how we technically own the Bank and that they should donate the land to locals. I suggested that this was highly unlikely due to the fact that RBS needs bailing out and there must be a reason that they are relocating, probably to save money in the long run and sell the land to make money.

A parting shot

This went on for a few minutes until the woman decided to give up and pester some other unsuspecting parent who had just entered the park with a gaggle of tearaways. Her parting, and very patronising shot was to say – to two 21st-century men, who were quietly and casually taking their children to the park on a Saturday morning – ‘Well done, Dads’.

I gritted my teeth and bit my tongue and decided the best form of revenge was to head straight to the nearest RBS branch and open up a high-interest savings account.

A week later. I returned to the park only to discover something catastrophic. The four infant swings had been reduced to two, and both were occupied.

I cursed the park, I cursed the Parks Department, and I cursed the clipboard-waving lady. And then I figured that it’s all just swings and roundabouts.

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