Meet me in the morning..

Today I had intended to post about Willie O'Dea's habit of speaking from both sides of his mouth.

I had intended to mention how, Mr. Potato Head... sorry, Mr. O'Dea attacks the Mahon tribunal each time the holes in the Taoiseach's "new and improved" (and possibly lemon fresh) explanations are highlighted.

I was planning to contrast this with his convenient sidestepping of difficult questions about his boss using the helpful "This issue should be dealt with by the tribunal" defence. (Yes - that's the very same tribunal he regularly attacks).

But that was before I nearly killed a one-legged man on crutches on the way into work.

I should clarify, I was on the way into work - not him. He was already at work, begging at a busy junction. We only saw each other when he crutched ("step" has to be the wrong choice of verb here, right?) from behind a truck into the middle of my lane. (All children are taught never to cross the road from behind a vehicle which obstructs their view of oncoming traffic - I would have thought this was more important for the legularly challenged. But anyway....)

He stopped dead, the surplus trouser leg hanging limply over the handle of one crutch, a look of sheer terror on his face. I, on the other hand, didn't have the luxury of stopping suddenly - I swerved around him, torn between shaking my fist in anger in a "you pesky kids" kind of manner and a desire to actually stay upright. I'd like to think I left him spinning wildly like some character in a Looney Toons cartoon - but I didn't dare look back.

Quite an invigorating start to the day - it gets the heart pumping and the brain racing - but I'm not sure he'd appreciate if I included this energising ritual into my regular morning routine.