'The perks of being a grandparent – watching Paddington in Peru without weird looks'

Smiling single-male-adult-stranger-of-a-certain-age sits alone among other people’s children in a darkened cinema to watch a heartwarming film starring a talking bear. Disaster.

Beaming Granda takes grandkids to the pictures to enjoy the same film on the big screen with all the other excited little ’uns. Triumph.

An upside of my daughter having two (for now, it’ll be three in February) children is obtaining a passport to .

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I love this movie series, based on Michael Bond’s uplifting tales of an illegal entrant into the UK, finding asylum, and overcoming a hostile environment. But I waited until the first two films came on TV. You don’t need much awareness to appreciate why a bloke going kidless to the even with the softening impact of a woman in tow, triggers hostile looks as suspicious mams and dads swap seats to box them in before the lights go down.

The PG rating would be Parental Glaring, and fair enough. I’d probably be the same in their shoes. Back in the day, with my own brood, we moved after a lone man picked to sit behind us in a near-empty auditorium. Mind, the sticks were upped because the fella stank of overpowering stale sweat.

In the park with Little L and Canny C, I find myself scanning who else is there with kids and the radar would immediately detect a geezer pushing an unoccupied swing or going down the slide holding an invisible child.

With Wes Streeting quite rightly banning smoking and vaping in and around play areas, perhaps the Health Secretary could also introduce a clause barring adults entering unless accompanied by a minor.

Lots of places let in kids only with a grown-up so why not the reverse? And cinemas are missing a trick. Over-18 showings of Paddington would be Peruvian gold. Just think of the alcohol sales.

But smug me can, with the grandkids, now safely join Antonio Banderas, Ben Whishaw and Hugh Bonneville, without causing distress.

London Mayor supplies "Baby on board!’" badges for pregnant women to pin on coats in the hope seats will be given up on crowded buses, tubes and trains.

I’m warming to the idea of a “Granda on duty!” version to achieve public recognition.

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