So, every day I put the baby on the changing mat, switch on the voice recorder on my phone, and start telling a story off the top of my head… (been a while since I posted any – transcribing is a bitch.)
This is a story about the Stripey Bus Stop
The Stripey Bus Stop was the Best bus stop in the world. Most bus stops are just made of glass and red metal, with a sign in them, but the stripey bus stop was a deep burgundy with white stripes all the way around it. It was quite psychedelic and the buses loved stopping there and the passengers loved getting on and off there.
Now, sometimes passengers would walk extra…even an extra mile maybe – just so they could get on or off at the Stripey Bus Stop so they could see its lovely stripes.
But the thing is, this made all the other bus stops jealous. Because it wasn’t their fault that they didn’t have stripes you know? No one knew how the Stripey Bus Stop had ended up being stripey.
So one day one of the other bus stops had a word with a Teenager who was waiting for a bus there. He said “I’m sick of that Stripey Bus Stop – can you do something about it?” A little nod, a little wink- the Teenager knew exactly what he was talking about.
The next day – well, the Stripey Bus Stop was covered in black splodges. it was ruined! And everyone knew that the Stripey Bus Stop would never be the same again – it was no longer attractive, it was shunned by people, they would walk away from it and go to one of the normal bus stops.
And this carried on for a while. And once the Stripey Bus Stop had been neglected for a little while it got worse – more black splodges and scratches and scrawl, and eventually it was just a rusty bucket of an old bus stop that everyone just forgot about.
And the only person who knew a thing about why this had happened to the Stripey Bus Stop was the bus stop who had asked the Teenager to ruin it. And that bus stop felt something called regret, and remorse – for being so nasty. Because the Stripey Bus Stop had never done anything bad – he’d just been stripey.
And once he got a little older, the other bus stop realised a better solution, rather that to ruin the Stripey Bus Stop would have been to ask the Teenager to paint some stripes on all the other bus stops so they could all be great stripey bus stops.
There’s a lesson in there, which hopefully you’ve absorbed, even though you are only 8 months old, but there is a lesson in there – it’s a moral story. Erm, so think on – think on that…