Always wear the right clothing.

The school is active once again, as is the weather, so this weeks forays along the magical entity of tattoos, titoos, tight leggings, gobbing children and strange life forms has resumed in a fairly natural fashion. It seems that England only has two seasons now, Winter and Summer, so that if the sun should appear the dress standard is for July, regardless of temperatures of 38F, and if clouds or rain should obscure the sun, the dress is still for July with an added hoodie over the T shirt.
Yesterday was sun so the usual cast of parents milling around the school yard were clad in short-sleeved tops which in the case of the women exposed vast quantities of bouncing bosom. Unfortunately the men were the same and I can only think it was the sight of these that  was scaring the hedge sparrows away.
Now I may have previously mentioned the large scale of these local titties that seemingly have a life of their own even when metaphorically constrained by iron cast bras and other guidance systems. True to form Monday morning showed the power of these memorable mammeries in the shape of a chubby young woman wearing a red 'England' shirt and very leg hugging black tights. The brat owned by this women was doing its usual thing of charging around the school yard when, upon another approach to it's mother, another brat stuck its foot out causing the little lout to tumble headlong towards the said Alma Mater. In an attempt to prevent his disgusting piggy nose from furrowing the unkempt tarmac of the playground the young pustule made a grab for his mother to prevent his fall. Well the movement certainly worked as the excrescence remained on its feet but, as the great Newton reminds us, to every action there is a most definite reaction, in this case heralded by the sound of a resounding twang type noise bounding across the playground and providing a faint echo   from the sides of the surrounding slag heaps.
' Me bleedin' bra strap' came the cry from the slightly off balance young mother as she tried to steady herself from the brats clutching hands and the asymmetric motion released by her now freely swinging breasts. For some reason, it may have been a different rate of swing by each of the released Bristols, she seemed to enter an uncontrollable leftward lurch that seconds later caused her right nipple to knock the mobile phone out of the hand of the father of another child who was standing about a yard behind her and attempting to inform his gaffer that he was sick in bed and couldn't attend work that day. His instinctive shout of 'watch where you're putting your great fat tit' must have impressed his boss no end but at that point the classroom door opened and the subsequent stampede dragged me away from what must have been a very interesting three way conversation between the man the woman and the unwitting listener at the other end of the line.