When Dads are in charge

"Hello Miss.  Is that your dog?"
"Yes.  Are you having a party?"
"It's the presentation evening."
"I get free drinks," one lad boasted, shaking his glass of coke at me.
They flashed wristbands in my direction.

I had steered the dog past paper plates of sausages and a small pile of vomit.  We had taken a sudden side step to avoid the young man swearing at and kicking the bins, while a group of older men ignored him, preferring to stare at their pints and discuss football.

"When I grow up I want to be a dog," one of the children said, wistfully.
Normally. I'd say that they can be anything they want to be but that might be a bit ambitious.
"OK.  But it would be good wouldn't it?"
They all agreed.
Even I was convinced.

There were children everywhere.  I was now surrounded by a large crowd that could have been quite intimidating.  The dog took an exception to the boy who pulled his tail and growled at him before hiding under my legs, looking at me and saying, "Sorry. but where are his parents?"

"Miss, do you know about the scary men?"

"Are they at the party?" I asked, thinking about the chap arguing with the bins.

"No, they're in the wood."

"Are they?"

"Yes. There's two of them. Army men. Will you go with us and see?"

While I was trying to think of an excuse to avoid going into the thicket with 50 kids, one girl rolled her eyes.

"It's a fairy story."

"A fairy story? What, like Cinderella?"

"Yes, you know, when you are meant to believe that Step-mothers are horrible but then they turn out to be nicer than your own mum and they take you shopping and let you have a hot chocolate and a big bit of cake."

"No, you're wrong. There are two army men in there."

"There might be," I said, "Sometimes people go in there to smoke."

"Yeah, I told you."

"They're in there by the lake."

"The lake?"

"Yeah, there's a lake in there.......with alligators  in it."

"There's no lake in there," I said

"Well, it's more of a swamp."

"There is a damp area if there's been a lot of rain and loads of foxes," I conceded

"There are still alligators, or crocodiles. Crocodiles live in swamps."

The girl with the fairy tale theory had heard enough.

"Look, it's a myth. It's like Theseus and the Minotaur. You know, like a story that they tell you to stop you going in the maze. It's what happens when Dads are in charge"

I left them to continue my walk. We turned the corner and the dog noticed a sweet smell before two men, dressed in camouflage gear, clutching larger cans, stumbled out of the copse. They were giggling.

"Mate, did you see that crocodile?"

"Nah, bruv, it were an alligator, weren't it? Stands to reason. Crocodiles aren't pink."