The day started badly, still dark, children didn't want to get out of bed, everybody shouting, all too much effort - I'd have happily handed in my resignation, if I could just figure out who to give it to.
Things had not improved by the time we made it into the car. Beanie-baby cracked it, for reasons that are still a mystery, and to drown out her yelling I put the radio up. It's tuned to Classic FM in some vain attempt at soothing the beasts, and of course they're playing Elgar's Cello Concerto which is guaranteed to make me cry every time I hear it.
So by now kids are screaming, I'm sobbing, music is on full volume and I'm attempting to get onto the Freeway, behind a driver travelling at 40kmph. The peak hour traffic, cars and massive B-Double trucks, are hurtling past at around 120kmph. If I could have turned around I would've.
But we did it. Of course we did. But I'm still not sure how, a sudden sweet spot in the traffic and a 2.5L engine helped a great deal, though.
By the end of the Freeway peace had been restored. Everyone was happily truck spotting and the music had been turned to low!
I've aged though. Quite a lot.
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