My extremely handsome son George has recently passed his driving test. Unlike other young men who pass their test he has not gone down the boy racer route. He has bought this (see photo) little red van. It previously belonged to Postman Pat apparently.
Having had a good look at my son’s new ish van and noting that there is room to comfortably fit a bed in the back of it, I have spent some time trying to persuade him to swap with my small Vauxhall Astra I am currently making into a campervan. He won’t have it though.
I told him how weird it is for a young man to buy a bright red post office van as his first vehicle, “How do you expect to pull a bird in that thing?” I asked him as part of my ploy to get him to swap vans.
“Dad,” he said, “You seem to be stuck in a time warp. Young women, or birds as you call them, usually have their own cars these days. They don’t need to get pulled, as you so crudely put it. Oh, and it is an ex Royal Mail van dad nothing to do with the post office.”
Well, I wasn’t having him lecture me. “Look here son,” I said to him, “There ain’t nothing crude about having a decent motor and pulling a bird with it. Let me tell you this,” I said, “if I hadn’t had a Mark 2 Jaguar I would never have pulled your mother and you my son would never have been born!”
I worry about that lad. He is far too modern in his outlook. I don’t know where he gets it from?
Postman Pat = A children's story about a mailman and his little red van.
Pull a bird = meet a young lady.