erk, erk, erk

I'm early boarding the train to London. A woman & baby are the next aboard, settling at the table across the aisle.

My heart always sinks a little in these circumstances. There are a wide range of possibilities - the baby sleeping for the whole trip is the most desired, but equally the wee mite may howl and scream for 2 hours.

The mum is wibbling away in sweet baby nothings while she gets them settled. The nipper makes like a baby coot, waving arms and going "erk, erk, erk" as they do while they decide if they're unhappy enough to go for a full blown cry.

Mum's baby talk is distracting enough to get me reaching for the iPod. It's going to be a journey accompanied my own personal soundtrack. Squeeze, Blockheads, Stranglers and Madness feature on this playlist.

♪♫♪ "Why should you try to be much taller than you are?" ♫♪♫

Meanwhile two ladies in the third age of life sit opposite mum & baby. Much cooing ensues.

The train shuffles into movement and within moments I'm passing close by the house I left an hour ago.

A mother and 2 boys pass by on their way to the buffet car. Looking around I see there are a lot of children in the carriage. Ahhh. Easter Holidays. Of course.

We pause at Wakefield to take on passengers. As people stream past me to find their seats a familiar smell wafts past making me sit up and sniff like a Bisto Kid. Someone enjoyed a little bac-de-wack this morning. My sense of smell is usually quite lame, but when I'm plugged in to my iPod all odours seem heightened. Am I alone in this peculiarity?

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