I just realised I forgot to blog my first Talking-to-my-companion-and-not-me experience.
It was a couple of weeks ago. The Lad (6) and I were meandering down the footpath. We were chatting about life, and he was resting his hand on my armrest, which helps stop him getting his feet tangled under my wheels.
A woman maybe in around her mid-fifties was walking by the other way. She looked at the Lad, and said in a sickly sweet voice, “Oh, you’re a good boy. A good, GOOD boy.” And kept walking.