WHEN I’M PRESIDENT OF EVERYTHING

I reckon there should be two changes to how motorbikes work.

1. If you get on one and you’re under 20, the ignition key won’t do anything, and

2. If you ride one into a park, the engine explodes.

I’m not wishing people ill harm, you understand. I just want to stop teenagers revving into quiet residential parks and scaring dogs and little kids, by churning up the grass and making loud noises.

I also think that if you’re caught riding one without a motorcycle helmet, you should have to do a thousand hours community service in a hospital A&E department.

I’ll be honest, I’m not sure how idea 1 would work. I guess the key monitors your blood-stream or something? I don’t know - I’d hand that one over to the boffins.

2 is possible though! GPS! But it could easily go wrong. Maybe not exploding the engine, I suppose, but seizing it up somehow, injecting something into the oil whenever it goes off-road and into the park. Whatever it takes to act as a deterrent.

Again, one for the boffins, that one, when I’m President of Everything. They’ll have a lot to do, I’d wager when that happens.

In unrelated news, I had a very pleasant time in the park tonight. I ate my dinner from a plastic tub again, and the dogs came sniffing around once more. It was still sweltering out there. But also delightful. The golden hour came and lit everything up like Lothlorien.

At one point, I imagined what it would be like if huge thundery drops of rain came tumbling from the sky. Cool, heavy rain, pouring from above. I pictured myself throwing my arms wide, letting the refreshing water drench every part of me, trickling off the edge of my nose, cascading through my hair, and saturating my clothes. It would have been very welcome, pattering into my empty lunchbox and soaking the bench.

No rain though. It hasn’t rained for ages! Just a sweaty afternoon, into which rode two whooping teenagers with no cycle helmets and a whole lot of engine noise. A lady near me, gripped the collar of her trembling dog, and waited for the storm to pass. The kids without thinking, started doing skids in front of her, then pelted down the hill without a care in the world.

Quietness returned as the sound of the yelps and the motorbike faded into the distance. I popped open my lunchbox again, and the dog came bounding over. I smiled as the lady called him back to her. I think, probably, there ought to be rewards for people who are kind to dogs when I’m President of Everything too. What do you think?