Tuesday 8 April 2008

Answer to (some of) my problems

Life was so much more predictable when I wasn't driving yet.

Granted, I had to drag hapless Ultimate Other Half with me either I needed to get a PPS number or bikini wax. But it was his own fault for not protesting more and only making very subtle remarks in lines "when will you learn to drive" once in couple of months or so.

Perhaps he was slightly put off by me barking "Never!" or giving long epic lectures about how cars are stronger than me, scary, unpredictable and you can't NEGOTIATE with them.

Or I just patted his hand lovingly and assured him that he's a brilliant driver and I have every confidence that he can get me wherever we going safely. Which he did.

He's driving skills faltered only once when he reversed forcefully into a lamp post in front of maternity hospital.

Who puts lamp posts in the middle of a parking lot anyway?

Anyway, we always got where we wanted to go in reasonable time and in one piece.

This Sunday I took Sir Sprout to a indoor play center in a nearby little town. After spending couple of hours propping him up to all kinds of attractions so he could slide down happily squealing (as a result I've been handicapped for 2 days, he's 15kg, have I mentioned that?) I decided to do the proper Mommy thing and have lunch in nearby restaurant.

About 40 minutes later Sir Sprout was stuffed with toasted sandwich and chicken from my salad. So we headed towards home.

Now, did I mention I go to work to that town? Five days a week.

Thus you would presume I'd have learned my way back home by now.

So how the hell did I end up in a village about 20km from the town IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION???

The fact that I just shrugged, turned the car around and drove home, shows how unsurprised I was. Sir Sprout didn't notice a thing. He was snoring in his seat.

Clearly there's only one answer to my problem. A personal chauffeur. All we need now, is to win a lottery.

Before I'll go to take Sir Sprout to the creche one of these mornings and will next be spotted someplace in Southern Spain, a bit puzzled since I still haven't come across local Supervalu.

5 comments:

Martin said...

you plonker.

I hear tale of a guy who was out drinking one Saturday evening. He had 16 too many, was not fit to drive, and had missed all chances of a drive home.

So he started to walk the 6 miles.
Along the way he attempted to light a cigarette. Failing, due to a slight breeze, he turned his back to shelter the cigarette from the wind and lit it.
Sucking in the lovely smoke he started to walk onwards once again.

2 miles later he arrived back at the pub he had just left...

btw...I reckon we are from reasonably close by, if I still lived at home that is, obviously.

Anonymous said...

But look on the bright side - you could stop for paella. Don't worry, chicken. It's Irish road signs. My personal favourite is the slip road off the N3 to Blanch. If you look at it from the other direction it says 'TURN BACK, WRONG WAY'. Well, duh.

Foreigner by Default said...

Xbox - thanks for a compliment!

Other Half didn't even say that, just snorted and looked generally amused.

Funny story, btw ... poor guy must have been sooo knackered once he got home eventually.

Are you from mid-West?

EM - Well, part of it is road signs. The other part is my total absent-mindedness and attempt to sing "Unforgettable" to Sir Sprout while entering the roundabout thus not really thinking very clearly.

And they say women are good at multitasking - bullshit!

Anonymous said...

lol! Glad I'm not the only one with such a poor sense of direction.

Anonymous said...

Ah, but it was all good in the long run, because Sir Sprout was asleep.

 
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