Right, well I knew this morning today was going to be tricky I felt it in my bones. Especially as I had slept on the edge of the bed thanks to ‘M’ refusing to sleep and me crumbling and letting her sleep with me. (Apparently her feet were not at the desired temperature, tonight she will be wearing socks- that’ll stump her! hopefully?) So I managed to get through the morning managing to minimise my clumsiness. There were close encounters with slippery glasses when washing up, my slipper nearly came off when I was trotting down the stairs and I nearly rammed the shopping trolley into the car (more on the car later). So after some ‘aggressive hoovering’ therapy I felt a bit better so much so that I almost made ‘M’ late for preschool. After cajoling her into school I made a hasty retreat home for a lunch date with a friend. As I hurriedly parked, mounting the curb (I know Mr ‘C’-‘I told you so') I felt the tyre do something strange and lo and behold I had ripped the bl**dy thing. This is when the catalogue of embarrassment began... firstly I had to ring the AA, they were exemplary in their customer service and lack of sniggering when I told them what had happened. The nice young man came and fitted the spare without the slightest hint of smuggery – bravo. My faith in customer service restored I then set off to the local tyre store (I shan’t mention their name it still sends a shudder down my spine). Buoyed with the confidence of the nice young man (oh what a nice man) I enquired about the tyre. Bad idea! The boy, oh yes I shall call him a boy, showed no discretion about my parking skills and then proceeded to try to charge me over the odds for the tyre, whilst simultaneously trying to sell me another tyre. Just when I thought he could utter no more clichés he said the immortal words ‘that other tyre’s a bit of a death trap, not that I want to scare you’. By this point ‘M’ is protesting that she needs a pee and that the tyre shop was boring. Just then Mr ‘C’ rings to check how I am progressing in the world of tyre procurement, after several expletives he asks me to pass the mobile to the young boy. Suddenly the tyre price has dropped £30 and we no longer require the 2nd tyre. I couldn’t decide who I was more mad at Mr ‘C’ for making me feel like a pleb or the boy for taking advantage of a stressed mum- sometimes it still really is a man’s world...
Anyway we still haven’t replaced the tyre, I couldn’t bring myself to spend money there so tomorrow I am going out solo to buy a tyre and woe betide any boy that tries to get the better of this lady I am researching all things tyre related tonight and practising my macho stance and man swearing.
Think the NY resolution of meditating may have been replaced with medicinal drinking
xx
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