You know why they have that bamboo fence around the nursery? It’s cos of pervs. When I was younger the fence was the same as the primary school one. Wrought iron. Now all the nurseries have them. To stop men standing across the road, jerking their gherkins. Their cocks.
It’s true! Anyone used to be able to walk into the playground and take you. Now the kids have to stay with their teacher until an ‘authorised adult’ comes to get them. Don’t know what my mum would have done back then. Without my nan? Without me? I don’t know what she would have done at all, nowadays.
I guess she’d have to quit her job. Be a stay-at-home mum or let the state take care of us. After school club, breakfast club. Adventure club for the half terms, work crèche for inset days.
It’s bleak, man. When you think about it. I go to work and by the time I get home I just sort of…switch off. I turn into a zombie. Autopilot or something. I literally shuffle shuffle from my room to the kitchen to the living room. Then bathroom, then bed. If you blocked my path I’d probably try and walk through you. I have no energy. Sometimes, when Seth and I- don’t say anything! But sometimes, when we’re- and it’s not all the time! But when we’re getting down to it, sometimes I’m just…not there. I’m awake and I want it- I love the dude, you know? But I’m also just like… Did I lock up before I left? Could I put a wash on and have it finish before midnight? I know. I know. It’s awful. But when else do I have the time to think? To really think about anything?
Now imagine that and chuck a baby in there too. A squealing wailing ball of confusion. Imagine that while you’re on autopilot. On your own. Drained from work. Drained from the baby. Maybe one day you snap. Walk out of work, into a busy street. Or worse. Get you cock out in park cos you’ve forgotten what appropriate behaviour is. It happens. I’m sure it happens. And that’s why we need bamboo fences. To keep the pervs and the parents out.