It's Jaya’s Grandpa shouted the young boy as he looked at me

I was walking across the school yard having just dropped Joshua off early so that he could take his turn today as the class helpwr heddiw. Coming the other way was a dad with two boys, one in Joshua’s form and one who goes to the school nursery with my two year old daughter Jaya. The younger lad stared at me then shouted “It’s Jaya’s grandpa!”

I said loudly. “No I am Jaya’s father, her daddy” and the lad’s daddy gave an embarrassed sort of laugh. The thing is that yesterday I did what I do every three weeks and shaved. After three weeks I have a scruffy growth of facial hairs and a good number of them are white so I suppose I must look quite old. But today I was clean shaven and my hair has almost no grey streaks in it. Call me conceited but I think I look fairly youthful for my age, 55.

But that is the rub. When I take Jaya to young mums groups, a couple of the mums are younger than my eldest daughter Olaf (22). All are far closer to Olaf in age than to me and so many of the grannies and grandpas in this village are around about my age. There are some who are a good bit younger! Two of my eight first cousins are now grandparents.

Olaf wants to pursue a career as an actor and, conceited little pipsqueak that she is, knows that no man is good enough for her so I do not expect to be an actual grandpa for some time. But I can understand why the lad, and he is not the first of Jaya’s chums to make this schoolboy error, thinks that I am a doting grandpa rather that a father who happens to be a primary carer and all round progressive.