We spent last weekend at my parents house. They live about an hour and a half’s drive away from us, so obviously it took us 3 hours to get there.
Regular readers of this blog will smile knowingly as memories of past posts about Car trouble and driving home for Christmas come flooding back to them.
I do not understand why the Greek God(zilla) does not just let me drive.
For one thing, I am clearly so much better at it.
I also have no issue with the Nav Man’s voice, the directions he gives, or the marks the machine leaves on the windscreen.
I do not beep the horn at people walking too slowly across the zebra crossing, nor do I wag my finger at people on the other side of the road who I think are driving too fast.
I do not stare into the car windows of vehicles that pull up beside me to intimidate them into letting me cut in.
I do not shout ‘LEARN TO DRIVE YOU MORON’ at every white van driver/bus driver/taxi driver that I have to pull in for so they can pass by.
It also does not take me 20-minutes to reverse park into a space big enough to fit 3 buses, but moving on.
For some reason, the Greek God(zilla) refuses to even consider letting me drive us anywhere. However, when it comes to who is going to drive us home, you can guess who always loses that coin toss…
I should definitely take over all outbound driving responsibilities.
The Greek God(zilla) could then recline in the passenger seat and listen to the football… yes, I would even allow sports radio if it meant not circling the M25 four times.
So there we were.
About to embark on a round trip to Essex with a boot full of presents, cheesecake and wine.
‘I’m not going to drink today’ decided The Greek God(zilla) ‘so I’ll drive us back home again tonight’.
Now, usually the thought of making two long car journeys in one short day would bring me out in hives, but I imagined a bellyful of red wine and knew that would help me drift off to my happy place.
When we eventually arrived after missing our turnoff… twice, we were understandably both feeling a little stressed out.
Luckily, Zachy had slept the entire way so had missed the quick fire of expletives being yelled and then muttered under angry breaths.
When will we ever learn… well it would seem not for another day at least.
‘I’ve got a bit of a thirst on, love?’ said the Greek God(zilla), rather predictably as soon as he took his second sip of a refreshing ice-cold beer.
I longingly gazed at a fine selection of red wines over in the corner.
‘Perhaps we should stay the night after all’ he added as he clocked a fine selection of fine ales in another.
So off he went back out in the car again to the nearest supermarket to stock up on everything we would need for an overnighter. Although this time we sent my Dad with him to make sure he found his way there and back.
About an hour later they came back with multi-packs of socks, pants, pyjamas, toothbrushes, vests, mouthwash and ibuprofen.
‘It was all soooooo cheap’ he said wide-eyed like only someone who has lived in London all his life could.
‘Maybe we should stay the night too…’ pondered The A-Team eyeing up our bag of goodies.
So, then they went off to stock up on nappies and wipes.
‘We’re already staying the night’ piped up my Nan and Aunt from the other room.
‘I live here’ called out my brother
‘Where’s everyone going to sleep?’
‘I need a wee, Mummy’
‘Pass the crisps’
‘Can we watch a DVD?’
‘That’s my glass!’
‘Grandad do it’
‘Who’s turn to hold the baby?’
‘Does anyone want another drink?’
And that is how one family ended up spending the weekend together.
P.S. Jack, you were sorely missed but thank you for letting us stay in your room.
P.P.S. Next time you are home you might want to take a little look under your bed and remove a few of your *ahem* products. The image of Mum on her hands & knees in a pair of marigolds dealing with the (t)issue while her grandchildren jumped excitedly around her will stay with me forever.
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