As I walked to the hotel entrance, I passed a people carrier emptying its load of disgruntled parents, grumpy children and assorted luggage into the car park. I shivered and thanked the Lord that that wasn't my life.
"You have a room for me" said I to receptionist.
"I do sir, but you have reserved a double room" said receptionist. "Wouldn't a twin be better?"
"No thanks, I'd like a double bed please"
"But surely twin beds would be more appropriate?"
"There's not enough room in a single bed, though, is there?" said I.
"Can I just ask", said receptionist, sheepishly, "where the young lady will be sleeping?". He pointed at the seven year old girl that I hadn't seen standing next me.
"She's not with me!" I said, stunned.
"Sorry sir", said receptionist, "but I find that if it looks strange, it usually is".
"What exactly are you accusing me of here?"
It seems the child had followed me into the hotel, leaving her family to deal with the luggage. Happily her parents and siblings had now joined her in the lobby, clearing my name with their presence.
I got my key and headed to my room, reputation intact.
Which should be fine, but I'm left wondering - do I look like a child molester?