“When I was a little boy,” said Mr. Banks, “I loved going for walks. I used to walk with my Governess down to the second lamp-post and back every day. And I never grumbled.”
Michael stood still on his stair and looked doubtfully at Mr. Banks.
“Were you ever a little boy?” he said, very surprised.
Mr. Banks seemed quite hurt.
“Of course I was. A sweet little boy with long yellow curls, velvet breeches and button-up boots.”
“I can hardly believe it,” said Michael, hurrying down the stairs of his own accord and staring up at Mr. Banks.
He simply could not imagine his Father as a little boy. It seemed to him impossible that Mr. Banks had ever been anything but six feet high, middle-aged and rather bald.
“What was the name of your Governess?” asked Jane, running downstairs after Michael. “And was she nice?”
“She was called Miss Andrew and she was a Holy Terror!”
“Hush!” said Mrs. Banks, reproachfully.
“I mean—” Mr. Banks corrected himself, “she was—er—very strict. And always right. And she loved putting everybody else in the wrong and making them feel like a worm. That’s what Miss Andrew was like!”
~Chapter 2
Ha! I can remember as a young boy realizing one day that my Dad’s name wasn’t “Dad”. He had his own name, just like I had mine. It shocked me to be honest, and the world got a whole lot bigger in just those few seconds. Did you ever have some experience like that as a kid, when you just suddenly weren’t a child anymore in some minor regard and how big it was to you? Tell me about it if it did.
I included the rest of the scene because every description that Mr Banks applies to his old governess, Miss Andrews, pretty much applies to Mary Poppins as well. I’m just waiting for them to meet and for the sparks to fly!
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