Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Speaking too soon

This morning, as I was getting ready to go to work, it occurred to me that I hadn't had to call out the recovery men for two whole weeks.

It was a crazy day in work but at tea-time, when I was loading my shopping into the boot, I thought, 'Well, I had lots to do but it all gone done and I've even done the shopping AND I'll be home in time for Neighbours.'

I was feeling very pleased with myself until I got into the car and tried to switch on the engine.

I'm beginning to notice a pattern to this. Alfie always breaks down in Sainsburys car park in the rain ... except when he breaks down in the doctors' car park in the dry.

I had the jump leads in the boot. I thought about standing round, looking pathetic and hoping someone would offer to help, but it was dark and wet so I went and phoned Younger Son. He brought Betty out to the rescue.

We got the batteries ready then we looked at the jump leads.

'Do you know what to do?' I said.
'How hard can it be?'

When the terminals started sparking we wondered if it might be harder than it looked. I had a sudden vision of having to call out recovery to rescue both Betty and Alfie.

We tried again and this time it didn't spark but the engine didn't start either. We gave up. Younger Son took home most of the groceries (so he could have tea) while I phoned recovery.

I'd only eaten a packet of crisps, a banana and half a bunch of grapes before the recovery man turned up. He'd been in the petrol station across the road helping someone else.

I told him I'd tried to jump start it. He looked at the leads. 'With those?' he asked.
'Yes. What's the matter? Aren't they jump leads?'
He did a Crocodile Dundee.

'Call those jump leads? These are jump leads,' he said as he whipped out an enormous pair.

He says I shouldn't worry about calling recovery: I am one of his regulars. I'm not sure if this is a good thing.


Without wishing to sound like a character from Friends, I am so not driving Alfie again until Husband sorts out the battery.

* * * * * * * * * * *

With my visit to the dentist fresh in my mind, I was reminded of the disaster that struck two Christmases ago.

I had a filling on the outside base of a tooth at the side of my mouth. The filling itself didn't cause a problem but the dentistry work did. Because my mouth had to be held open for so long it sort of seized up and for several weeks I couldn't open it properly.

Now, chocolate-lovers will have already anticipated what I am going to say next.

For the twelve days of Christmas - and several more - I couldn't open my mouth wide enough to get a Lindor truffle in!

(Blogger won't let me post a photo yet.)

2 comments:

Anna said...

Thinking about this now, couldn't you just have cut one into pieces? Wouldn't that have worked? PS We have two boxes stashed away for Christmas. If there's a more delicious truffle out there, I'd like to know about it. :-)

Anonymous said...

If you were single, I'd say you'd found a more effective way of dating than the Internet.

My step-grandchildren are aware I love Lindor truffles after they happened to send me some last Christmas and I went wild over the phone thanking them. I think the message got through. Pete?