It's only when you get into adulthood that you really appreciate the things your parents have done for you... and continue to do.
I'm not talking about the obvious - the wiping of bums, the feeding, the buying of brightly-coloured romper suits with pictures of teddy bears on them - though of course that sort of thing is as welcome as ever now that I'm in my thirties and don't have much time to do that sort of thing for myself, ha ha.
No, I mean the little things that go to prove that parents really will do pretty much anything to ensure their kids are happy.
My mum and dad are in their sixties now, and after a life-time of thinking Keswick was far enough to go for a holiday, thank you very much, they've suddenly become rampant globe-trotters.
Their latest jaunt was to the West Coast of America, a place I've always wanted to visit because of my fascination with American beat literature from the 50s and 60s. I jokingly said before they went that they should call in at <a href=http://www.citylights.com>the City Lights bookshop</a>, which is where the likes of Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs used to hang out in the heady days of the beatnik revolution.
And that's exactly what they did. They came to visit last weekend weighed down with City Lights books, T-shirts, postcards, bumper stickers, you name it. If they could have got away with unscrewing the sign from nearby Jack Kerouac Alley and bringing that home as well, I think they would have done it.
It was 90 degree heat the day they went to City Lights, not having a clue where it was and finding themselves tramping through Chinatown's back streets. Two Wiganers in their Sixties, not having much of a clue about why they were going to this weirdo joint, but doing it simply because they knew it would make their son happy.
With two children of my own now, I hope that I too will have this desire to please my kids when I'm as old as my folks are now.
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