Not cute.

The inlaws are visiting from Noo Zulland. I have been on my best behaviour and things are going pretty well.

Last night, returning from a very pleasant meal with the inlaws and a good friend (also visiting) we were pleasantly surprised when the tram pulled up and the driver leant out and said 'mind the step'. I thought 'wow, how nice, a tram driver really looking after his passengers' and felt a twang of pride in my adopted city's transport service.

It was only as I stepped up on to the tram and he repeated it louder that I realised he was speaking in transport provider language, that fabulous downplaying language where trains are slightly delayed, planes require minor repairs, taxi drivers are momentarily unsure of where they are heading and women are a bit pregnant.

What our mullet-adorned trammie in fact meant, was 'mind the pile of puke on the step'. Very similar.

We managed to all avoid it (no mean feat in itself) and headed as far away as possible, towards the empty seats at the back of the tram. Upon arrival we realised that they were empty for a reason, whoever had deposited the first pile had been a very busy boy indeed ('scuse the inherent gender bias but you know it was a bloke!).

We hastily retreated to the middle of the tram and spent the rest of the journey trying not to look (or smell) forwards or backwards. Maybe a rental car's not such a bad idea for when the inlaws are next in town.