Evidence that I have now had dealings with at least two milkmen in my life
Here is some of that stuff.
1. Saying to people, 'My third child was fathered by the milkman' can be used as a conversation starter at parties and soon sorts out the snobs from the interesting people. Snobs walk off, pretending to go and find a bit of unidentifiable fish paste on a cracker, and good luck to them, I say, with the salmonella. Interesting people say 'Really? The milkman?! Tell all! Here, let me top up your wine,' and are worth talking to.
2. Getting a lift to the shops on your husband's milk float is an original way to travel, but only enjoyable in the summer months, or if you're fed up of your 'small hair' and fancy being restyled by an Arctic gale, or if you are undergoing the menopause and can synchronise the experience with the hot flushes.
|Even more reasons to find bus travel attractive ...
3. Milkmen get tips from customers at Christmas. Counting those tips is a great family activity which brings parents and children together in a common goal around the kitchen table. This can lead straight into the family meal, which is the only way I've ever found of having everyone at the table all at once at the right time ready for dinner.
4. Having a husband as a milkman is a great excuse for not getting out of bed in the night if the children wake up. 'You're getting up in half an hour anyway so you can go and clear up the sick,' worked really well for those five years he had to be up at 4.30am for his milk round. 'You're getting up in three hours anyway,' didn't work quite so well, but was always worth a try, especially if converted into 'You've been in bed since 8.30 so you've had plenty of sleep. Move your butt into the nursery.'
5. A milk float reverses at the same speed as it goes forward, so the milkmen get very practised at reversing. If your husband is a milkman, therefore, you never have to back down a narrow street again with everyone looking at you as though you are Useless Dork of the Year for edging backwards at one millimetre per hour while a queue of traffic the size of the Wall of China builds up.
Come on, Martin. Tell us what it's like from your side ....