July 29: a week with my olde dad part 7

We went to the bank. There has been much confusion because my dad has two bankbooks from the Halifax (he won’t do bankcards). One bankbook has a lot of money on it. One less. I said, they’re putting your pension money into the bankbook with a lot of money, dad. He insisted they weren’t. His reasoning seemed to be that because he was using the other one to take money out, that was where the pension was going. But this one’s got no deposits in it, dad, just your withdrawals. Go way. So we had to go to the Halifax to get it confirmed by an eighteen year old teller. The bank is the authority. I know nothing. I remember a few years ago we went to see my sister on the other side of Manchester. We had to take the tram back to to the centre of Manchester. Are you sure we’re going the right way? This is the only way, dad. We just follow the line. It can’t turn off and go down a back street. This wasn’t enough for him. He went round asking people on the tram if we were going the right way. There’s only one way, mate. And then there’s the next door neighbour Paul. At the slightest confusion dad wants to knock on his door and bring him in. How do you switch the oven on? I’ll just have a look, dad. I’ll go and bring Paul in. No, Paul’s got his own family, dad. He doesn’t want you bothering him. I’m too late. He’s out the door and comes back with Paul. And then he asks him for the number of a qualified electrician for the lamp? I’ve told him an electrician will cost £100 to come out. We can buy another lamp like this for £10. Go way, says dad. I look at Paul. Paul gives his assent. That’s all right then. We won’t call the qualified electrician. Paul the neighbour is now the biggest Paul in dad’s life. He keeps calling me David anyway. David’s my brother. The other day he actually said it. Which one are you? I’m Paul I said. Go way!


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