Skip to main content

A Major Grumble

It seems that something is conspiring against us ever getting the new flat finished in time.

I was really organised this morning. I had a whole day of child-juggling and flat stuff purchasing scheduled, squeezed in between the weekly supermarket shop and my Dad's birthday party. It was planned with military precision.

And what happens?

The bloody car's brakes fail en route to Habitat.

In hindsight, we were really lucky. Put it this way, if a car's brakes are to fail it's better for it to happen when you're slowing down for traffic lights in an urban area, rather than on the fast lane of the motorway at 70mph.

So we call the RAC, explain what's happened and that there are two small children in the car. No problem, they say, you're on the priority list, we'll have someone out to you soon. How soon? we ask. Within two hours, they assure us. OK, so that's not exactly soon but it's manageable. Two hours later, the rare joy of being let loose in the car and encouraged to press buttons, beep the horn etc is starting to wear off for Firstborn and the Small(er) One. Trouble starts to brew.

We call the RAC again. They can't find us on the system. Errr, they say, we'll call you back. While we're waiting for the call we see two RAC vans amble merrily past us. They don't stop. We bribe the children with chocolate in a futile attempt to stop them killing each other. The RAC finally calls back. Someone will be with you in less than an hour, they assure us. Now, I'm not too good at maths but...

To cut a long story short, we finally got the car towed FOUR AND A HALF HOURS after we made our first call to the RAC.

Priority? I think not.

Total waste of a day? That's for sure.


Comments

Bec said…
So, this would be a bad time to mention how well my new kitchen installation is going, hmmm?
Kate B. said…
erm, yes!
Anonymous said…
major grimth. poor you! it could at least have happened while you were solo in the car, but with the smallfry! i shudder to think how my two would have handled being stuck endlessly in a car prison.

Popular posts from this blog

The Grim Reaper

Firstborn is obsessed with death. It started with the odd comment, such as; "Mummy, what happens when you die?" OK, I thought, I was expecting this at some point, what a cute little curious brain she has. So I trotted out all the cosy Heaven stuff and left out all the things that could worry her, such as worms and bones and holes in the ground. This went down pretty well, although somehow Firstborn made the jump from my view of Heaven (filled with love, joy, always warm, never rains, has a huge discount designer shoe outlet and I never have to pay my Visa bill) to her own view of Heaven; a wonderous place where small girls don't have to eat their vegetables before they're allowed pudding, and where Barbie dolls grow on trees. Anyway, I digress. Last week Firstborn started shouting "Kill! Kill!" in a bloodthirsty tone while bashing her hithero-beloved teddy against the wall. This was topped by her purposely flushing her favourite My Little Pony down the loo. ...

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to

A friend recently emailed me to say that her big memory of her stay with us last year is that she had a great birthday, one of the few where she didn't 'act like a spoiled grumpy princess'. She tried to give me all the credit but as I explained to her, it was all down to having a fellow female organising the birthday fun rather than leaving it to her partner. Her email got me thinking about birthdays and how very different men and women are in their attitudes to celebrating special occasions. It also had me thinking about my birthday two years ago when I threw a major tantrum in the Carrefour car-park after being told that we were off to do the weekly shop, kids in tow, which was simply the final straw at the end of a very uninspiring day. In contrast, my birthday last year was rather lovely (a morning on my own in a spa with no mobile coverage, pure selfish bliss). This year - in a few short months, eek! - I'll be hitting the grand old age of 38. This will be my las...