I have never had a nice car. Too many kids to transport about the place and as such my cars have always been trashed anyway. At any one time there has always been enough discarded food in the seat pockets and footwells to feed a homeless person for a week. Then Tess came along so add dog treats and pooh bags…
But now that Tom is away 9/10th’s of the time – suddenly the Holland’s are a family of 5 and and so I recently plumped for a nicer ride. An ex demo Mitsubishi Phev. Zero emissions, heated seats, automatic. Zero tax. Digital radio. I love this car and suddenly driving home in the middle of the night is more fun.
So when Nikki first pranged it, (parking) you will be proud to hear how I reacted. Whilst not overwhelmed, I explained that it was only a car and a car which still works. Nikki was delighted and probably congratulated herself on choosing such a kind man for a ‘life’ partner.
Then she pranged it again (parking) and my sinews strained a little because this car has got cameras all around the place. In reverse gear, an image appears on the dashboard of everything behind, plus it has the usual array of mirrors…
I inspected the car and wondered if such deep cuts could be polished out. Nikki fretted as she waited for my reaction and soon once again, she was smiling broadly. What a lovely bloke she had married.
Last week, I am upstairs working – probably thinking of a blog that I might write when Nikki arrives home from her dog walk. She appears in my ‘office’ (corner of our bedroom) and immediately I know that something is wrong. Pain is etched on her face. Something has happened, I just know it. I appeal for news whilst issuing assurances. Whatever it is, it’s going to be fine…
‘Dom, I’ve bashed the car again…’
F**** sake. Immediately the mist comes down. I cannot believe what I am hearing. I have not had the car five months and it has already changed shape.
Once again, it was parking the sodding thing. And in the same f****** car park. What the f****? And up against the same f****** bollards. You mean stationary bollards I assume?
Nikki quickly takes evasive action by going in to full mea culpa.
I won’t drive the car anymore, she announces which apparently is a concession until I explain that I will have to do every child drop and food run and nominated driver spot for sloshed partner…
My anger quickly escalates in to a full on rant. Heralding women for the things that they can do – things they can do better than men – but I am resolute on the things that women can’t do as well as men.
I heard a lady on BBCR5 the other day talking about the lack of women in Formula1. What a scandal. Never been a female F1 driver apparently… and do you know why I shouted…
Nikki wasn’t arguing – opting to just let the tornado blow itself out.
“Because what are pit stops? They are f****** parking and no crew would be f***** safe, that’s why.”
We are in love again.