A brother from another planet

The Resident Fan Boy, younger daughter and I are making our way down from the Mackenzie King Bridge, cutting through Confederation Park on our way to Elgin Street one Saturday morning. As we approach the fountain (which, apropos of nothing, used to be in Trafalgar Square and is said to be haunted), I see a fellow with a shopping cart bellowing at passersby. The path is going to take us right by him and I brace myself.

Instead, he calls after younger daughter: "Those are nice stockings!" (Younger daughter has an impressive collections of tights with every manner of design; today, she's sporting pink and blue butterflies on her legs.) She turns automatically and says, "Thank-you," before hurrying on.

I'm just coming abreast of him as he raises his mittened hands and addresses the sky: "Someone in this city has manners! It's a miracle!" The Resident Fan Boy and I grin at him and pass from the park unbellowed-at.