'My Mother's Day sucked'
What an absolute disaster from start to finish!
Our day started with loads of good intentions...
  1. Pop to the DVD store at the local shopping centre and drop off last nights viewing pleasure, then...
  2. Toodle off to the Pav (or the Pavilion) for a day of guilty pleasure with my teenage daughter.
Hmm, not gonna happen!
  • Get into the car after dropping off DVD, reverse, change to drive (it's an automatic) and HELLO?! - gear stays in NEUTRAL! Okay this sucks, lets try that again. And again. And again. Rain is bucketing down like there is no tomorrow, the entire lane is blocked by my lump of stubborn metal, and 15 blind chops are ignoring my hazards and hooting at me. Daughter tears herself away from MXit for a second and says, "Chill mom. Hey, what time do you think we will get to the Pav?" Breathe.
  • Try again. Winding down. Try again. Slide gear lever up and down... Very loose - is that normal? Still stuck in neutral. Cars hooting. Jump out and give 'em the finger and ask where their eyes are. Breathe some more. Shed some tears. Breathe again. 
  • Manually push 2.5L V6 MX6 Mazda with my 5 ft frame into a parking bay while my 15 year old steering with a Cheshire grin ("Look Maaaa, I am driving!") and too many lazy onlookers to mention (or clout). Breathe.
  • Multiple calls later to a friend of a friend of a friend 10 times removed. He saves the day by replacing split pin - in the bucketing rain. Again daughter tears herself away from MXit for a second and says, "So Mom, are we still going to the Pav now?". Breathe.
  • Excited that all is done, but no. Friend of a friend of a friend 10 times removed, advises us that split pin is the incorrect size and is temporary. Now we have to follow him to his house. It’s still bucketing. Daughter tears herself away from MXit for a second and whines, "Moooooom, what about the Pav?" Breathe.
A light at the end of the tunnel... Or not
  • It's 2 hours later, we are A for away and ready to hit the Pav, it's only a few minutes away. Split pin is replaced, wonky bumper clipped in place (thanks friend of a friend of a friend 10 times removed - didn't expect that). Breathe BIG sigh of relief.
  • We get 3 kms down the road and the car dies. Realisation hit. Aaaah! Damn friend of a friend of a friend 10 times removed used the car battery to power the light to work on the car. Maybe I should have taken the AA's advice and replaced the battery after the 3rd time they had to jump start me. Maybe I should have changed that plug like my neighbour suggested so that the car is running on 6 cylinders instead of 5. Breathe.
  • Try to start the car again. Try and start it again. Hmm. Breathe. Daughter tears herself away from MXit moans, "Moooom, I need to wee. How long before we get to the Pav?" Breathe.
  • Hello, anybody, somebody? Can you stop please? A jump? Anybody? Breathe.
  • Ah, call Granny! That’s what we’ll do. She has jumper cables. Call. Get a lecture. Make excuses. Cry a little. She says she is on her way. Breathe.
  • Half an hour later and finally a hot stud muffin stops. I greet him with a smile only marginally marred by my lank wet hair, saturated clothes and Goth style mascara training down my face. Great. Breathe.
  • He doesn't have jumper cables. Lovely. Breathe.
  • Finally another member of the public decides there IS safety in numbers... 2 chicks and a stud muffin is less dangerous than just 2 chicks, and so another car stops. He DOES have cables. But he doesn’t wanna stick around. He gives them to us, clearly we need them more than he does. Breathe a sigh of relief.
  • Thank Stud Muffin while sussing out his pecs and wishing I had worn waterproof mascara. He avoids eye contact. Clearly the Goth look scares him. Damn, Breathe.
  • Car finally starts. YAY! Granny pitches up. Lecture. Breathe. Reprimand. Breathe. Huff and Puff. Breathe.
Vibrating with the need to wee
  • We are ready to go. Daughter tears herself away from MXit, vibrates slightly and nags, "Moooom, mom, mom I need to wee! How long before we get to the Pav?" Breathe.  I am vibrating too. The pounding of the rain, my wet clothes, saturated feet, and dripping hair are not helping the insane ache in my bladder. I should have gone at home 4 hours ago. Breathe.
  • Advise daughter that Pav is just not gonna happen today. It's already after 2pm and just too risky. But hey, car is going and we will be home in 5 mins...
  • Turn the circle at Pav - almost home free. But no. The chunk of metal dies again, thankfully right at the entrance of the hospital.
  • By now, both my daughter and I are vibrating at a rate that could quite likely measure on the Richter Scale. Dive (carefully - avoiding any bumps or pressure to the bladder) into Granny's car and head to the hospital. Try to breathe. Slowly, don’t move ANY muscles. PINCH.
  • Charge into the hospital. It is an EMERGENCY! Such a nice lady at the reception, or was it a man?  My eyes were watering so badly, I just can’t say.
  • Emergency avoided and back to car. Rain is now pelting down at such a rate that I no longer feel the need for a shiatsu massage. Jump start chunk of metal again.
  • 3 jump starts later and we are finally on our way home.
  • 8 hours after leaving home, we are back! Our achievement? Just over 7 kms on the odometer, newly achieved Goth look with minimum personal effort, a sore throat, a black cloud of depression, and yes - a daughter that's still sitting on MXit!
Lovely, eh?

This was emailed to us in response to our newsletter, A Mother's day hangover.

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