Why, thank you, kind sir

I call him Thankyou Man. You can guarantee that any conversation he has, 50% of it will consist of him thanking the other person. Alun thinks Thankyou Man is great; he would rather have 50 Thankyou Men than some other people he could mention.

He drives me around the bend.

He thanks me for the work I do ... for doing my job. For which I get paid. I know I should be grateful, glad that someone appreciates what I do. But when the gratitude is churned out time and again as if it's on automatic , it's hard to believe it's real.

Yet in a strange way, I think it is. He is an unbelievably grateful man, who delights in expressing that gratitude. (Perhaps I should drop a hint that chocolate is a good way to say thank you ...)

I was in a meeting with him once. When he arrived he thanked everybody for coming (although he hadn't called the meeting); he thanked everybody for letting him come; he thanked the host for offering him a drink; he thanked one of the others for letting him have hot chocolate too (?); then he said, 'thank you for ... (We could see him struggling to think of something else and we waited agog - was he going to fail? would he have to end his sentence there?) ... letting me sit down.'

I am horrid but I do feel a bit sorry for him. I wonder if his gratitude is a result of low self-esteem, if he thinks it will make people like him more. He's told me about some things one of his children said to him and they were incredibly blunt and cruel; yet he went along with it in an accepting sort of way.

I must try harder.

* * * * * * * * * *

A church laptop, projector and mixing desk were stolen from the back of Alun's car last week. (And there was no sign of a break-in so it looks as though they won't be covered by insurance.)

If you recall last autumn I managed to wipe the hard drive in work completely clean. But I only lost the data; Alun has lost the computer too.

A number of people pointed out to me what an opportunity this was for me to get my own back: Alun has been known to make fun of me for this and other reasons. Encouraged by these others, I tentatively began to broach the subject. I had only just opened my mouth when Alun said, 'Don't even go there! Don't think about it! You know you'll regret it!'

And it's true.

Once - just once - I had to drop out of an event at the last moment; has he let me forget that? Months later he's still bringing it up, when I least expect it. Oh, yes, he is a torment.

But we get on really well. Work is a fun place to be when we're both in the office. We moan and nag and tease each other - and as I said, I usually come off worse. But when things are bad, when I'm struggling or doubting my ability or myself, Alun is the best support I could ask for. He can be serious and reassuring - when he's not showing me photos of his bongo.

That's Alun on the left, with Dave, our volunteer. They've just completed a tour of primary schools with their play about caring for the environment. They're two mad professors in case you couldn't guess.

xx