I had a bad thought as I continued on the Vallium Run.
The school bus coming the other way up the road was different. Same bus, different driver. It was being driven by Father Christmas. I had just passed a rescue vehicle which had been driven by a man in a green hat and jacket who was perhaps meant to be some sort of grown up Elf.
Ha ha ha. How I laughed inwardly about what would happen if Father Christmas went off the road and had to be rescued by an Elf. I sarcastically raised my eyes at the infantile passion the North East has for dressing up. Any opportunity they are at it. And now, so close to Christmas, every shop assistant is dressed as a fairy or a Christmas decoration, every refuse collector as a reindeer with a flashing red nose and sparkling antlers and every bus driver as Santa Claus.
Then I had my comeuppance. The next corner, under some giant Wellingtonia trees, there was some black ice. The bus skidded, but more by good luck than skill, righted itself and continued along the road in a straight line. My heart pounded. Serves me right - think evil thoughts and.......and all that.
I am now considering joining them. I may dress up. The trouble is that I don't have anything so simple as a Santa Claus, Elf or fairy in my dressing up box. A Gendarme, Arab Sheikh, ponytailed country and western star and a tomato. None are really very Christmassy and I may end up with a punch in the nose for someone who thinks I am taking the piss.
It needs more thought. Maybe just a sprig of holly will suffice.
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