This morning I was listening on the car radio to a discussion about the government's swimming guidelines. Apparently parents can't be trusted to keep their children safe in the pool, so the Health and Safety Executive issues handy guidelines. Lifeguards use them to prevent a single mother from entering a pool with two children, since she's clearly exceeding the limits of safe supervision.
As I listened, chuckling at the sometimes-silly extremes of the Nanny State, I drove past a parked school bus. Yes, that's what I said: I drove PAST a schoolbus, loading children. There are no rules here about stopping for school buses. No red stop sign swinging out, insisting you STOP! (In fact, stop signs are rare in Britain. Instead you'll encounter the well-bred "Give Way" or the baffling triangle painted on the road.)
What I want to know is, what kind of Nanny State prevents parents from teaching more than one child to swim at the same time, yet allows its nation of speed demons to fly right past a school bus?
Apparently, the nuances of British driving still elude me. For weeks, I thought this meant "no picnic tables ahead." And imagine trying to decipher this at breakneck speed!
For the literary (and prurient) minded, here's a more narrative approach to Euro signage. (Nanny State Advisory: No under 18s!)
