How I know I've found a soul mate

I've found someone who's as enthusiastic about buses as I am. Yes, yes, I can hear you saying, 'Oh, so there are two of you in the world? What a coincidence that you should meet.'


I've decided he's a soulmate. Shame I'm already married, then. And shame he's only three-and-a-half.


He's the child of a friend of mine. I met him when I visited her in London, where we used to live, two days ago. She is a teacher at my previous school. She'd warned me by text message, 'Expect to be questioned about your bus preferences'. When she sent the message, I think she was expecting me to react with, 'Oh, damn. How boring will that be.'


She doesn't read my blog.


I got to the house and she made me coffee. Then I sat down. I hardly talked to Bus-Boy's Mum (BM). This is because I mainly conversed with Bus Boy (BB). The following is not a verbatim transcript of what went on, but I think the sentiments behind it are reproduced pretty faithfully ...


BB: Did you come on a bus?
Me: No, not today. But I often go on buses.
BM: Sorry about this. He's really into buses. I did warn you.
BB: I like buses.
Me: I like buses, too. In fact, I love buses.
BM: Don't feel you have to humour him.
BB: My mummy doesn't like buses.
Me: Really? What a silly mummy you have.
BM: Honestly, don't waste your time. He won't shut up about it. Come and have more coffee.
Me: You have lots of red buses here in London, don't you?
BB: I like red buses.
Me: My favourite bus is a gold bus. It's called the G1. 'G' for gold.
BM: It's really sweet of you, Fran, but he'll be fine playing. Come on. Have a biscuit.
BB: A gold bus!
Me: That's right. And it has blue seats. Shiny leather ones.
BB: Do you have any red buses?
Me: No, not where I live.
BB: Do you have any yellow buses?
BM: Darling, I think you should go and watch a video, don't you?
Me: Yes, some children go to school on yellow buses where I live. But no one else is allowed. Just children.
BB: Could I go on a yellow bus?
Me: When you're old enough for school, you could.
BM: So how are things in Warwickshire? Are you enjoying your new job?
BB: Do you have green buses?
Me: No.
BB: Orange buses?
Me: No, no orange ones.
BB: Stripey buses?
BM: Sweetheart, this is getting silly. Go and play on your tricycle.
Me: Stripey buses! Wouldn't that be funny? Buses that look like zebras!
BB: Chortle, chortle. I wish I had a stripey bus.
Me: Me, too. And wouldn't it be funny? The bus would disappear on the zebra crossing!
BB: Chortle, chortle, chortle, giggle, giggle. And what if it was a spotty one?
BM: Darling, I think Fran might want to talk to Mummy a bit now.
Me: That would be fab! We could pretend we were inside a leopard.
BB: (Rolls over laughing.) Inside a leopard! But it would really be a bus! Maybe we'd go to the zoo instead of the bus station!!
BM: How about we go and sit in the garden and let him play with his toys in here?
Me: We'd get to the zoo and they'd let us in because they thought we were a leopard and then we'd be in a cage!
BB: A bus in a cage! Chortle, chortle.
Me: And people would come and look at us and they wouldn't realise they had come to the zoo to stare at a bus! Wouldn't they feel silly when they found out?
BM: I think I'll just go and hang some washing out, if that's okay.
BB: And what if you had a bus with a trunk, like an elephant? Chortle, chortle.
Me: Yes, spraying water over all the other traffic. That would be hilarious.
BM: And then I'll pop down to the shops, if you two are happy.
BB: And everyone would think, 'Oh no, it's raining!'
BM: For a couple of hours, that is. Say goodbye to Mummy, darling. Look after Fran.
BB: But it wouldn't be raining. It would be the elephant bus!
Me: Yes, a big grey one. With flappy ears.
DOOR SLAMS.
BB: My favourite bus is the 267. What's your favourite bus number?