Baby you can drive my car.


I’m cheating slightly, by re-posting a very old post from a few years ago. I blogged anonymously for at least a week (!) so I’m fairly certain no one read this the first time round …. I have had a ridiculously busy few days and didn’t want to abandon my brand new blog. I have however corrected my punctuation errors, goodness I really do need to re-learn my grammar! There may still be a few mistakes, but I have at least used more than one comma per sentence this time.

I couldn’t, for the life of me, find my car in Waitrose car park today. We have had this car for only a week and it’s a black saloon, so it blends in a little too well. I was probably wandering aimlessly for only a few minutes, but it reminded me of another lost car incident.

A couple of years ago we had, for the first time ever, a courtesy car, after P had a minor prang in our own car. Usually we go for the cheapest insurance we can find, which invariably doesn’t include a courtesy car. So what a treat to be driving an almost new car, air conditioning, central locking that works etc. The make and model of the car escape me now, but it was the first time that I had driven it. After the school run I popped to the bank and parked the car in the small car park.

My youngest was almost two and still at the age, where if you put him down, he would immediately seize the opportunity to run away as fast as his little legs could carry him. So as the bank had automatic doors, that constantly opened and closed, I decided to stay one step ahead of him and just carry him for the duration. Naturally there was a queue and by the time we arrived back at our car, I was hot and bothered and my arms felt as if they were coming out of their sockets.

This, of course, would be the perfect time for the central locking remote to stop working. Maybe central locking isn’t such a boon after all? We stood there for what seemed an eternity, until finally my prayers were answered and the doors unlocked. I leant in to pop my toddler in his car seat and that’s when I realised that it wasn’t there!

Someone had stolen our car seat. How on earth were we going to get home? At the same time as these thoughts were going through my head, a man’s voice shouted: “Hey, that’s my car!” How do you explain that you are a tired and harassed Mother of four, who had forgotten what her courtesy car looked like. That I had parked in an entirely different place and no I wasn’t trying to steal his car. My solution? I ran away as fast as my little legs would carry me ….