One horrible side effect of me moving up to Pocklington and leaving Nostalgia & Comics is that we're never going to see the day that I was really, secretly hoping for.
Ever since she was the tiniest thing Molly has been a regular visitor to the shop. She came in the first time just a few weeks old and since then she's always been made welcome. She's always been around comics in one form or another and has, since she was able to walk, loved trundling round the shop grabbing the latest fun things to play with.
As she's grown older she's also had the joy of being allowed behind the counter at various times when she and Louise visited on Saturdays.
She's bagged up, she's fetched comics, tidied shelves and done various bits of stocking up through her short life.
And she's always said that one day she'll come to work with me.
In fact, it was sort of taken as a given by all three of us I think that Molly would, sometime after 16, turn up at Nostalgia & Comics to earn a little extra cash to spend on whatever horrible music she was tormenting me with that week.
My heart that day would have been bursting with stupid pride.
Hell, knowing me, I'd have been wiping the tears away at some point.
But now that's not going to happen.
The nearest she gets is the special Nostalgia & comics t-shirt she's got in the cupboard, a leaving present from the staff to her.
Of course, should she somehow end up at university in Birmingham like her old man was, I'd certainly expect her to take full advantage and pester Dave for a job.
And I'd also expect Dave, knowing how good her shopworking and comic genes are, to give her a job.
I'd imagine she'd even be pretty good at sorting out the basement.