My Living Hell

Its friday, for many the night to socialise, to enjoy a beverage in your local watering hole or perhaps partake in some nourishing food at the local Indian or Chinese.

Or for many of us it seems to be the night to head onto the M42 and spend some quality time in traffic.

Seriously those of you supping on an ale right now or sipping on a sweet white wine don’t know the treats you are missing on the motorway. Firstly, for any car enthusiasts, there are thousands of them all cruising at a smooth ten miles an hour; clearly we all have nowhere else we would rather be. There are big ones, little ones, red ones, blue ones every type of sodding car imaginable.

For some odd reason some drivers and passengers look a little fed up at this friday night treat. Then they glance into our carrier of people and seem to cheer up instantly.

They see twin boy in the back, face contorted in pain as he battles his bowels whilst he who helped create them desperately searches for a service station amongst the sea of cars.

They see twin girl nose wrinkled in disgust as a strange smell edges towards her from the rear of the car.

They see beautiful baby mouth wide open with cries of frustration of being tied into a car seat when she should be having a book, bath and bed. Any cars within a 500 yard radius can also enjoy the sound effects from BB as her screams threaten to burst the sound barrier.

If they are really lucky as BB pauses for breath they catch the faint ironic strain of “If you are happy and you know it” coming out in maximum volume on repeat through the stereo.

They see me, wincing every time BB let’s out a strangled wail but still clapping when the CD tells me to, they see me praying twin boy wins the war against his bottom, they see me looking at them looking at me and they see their boredom is nothing compared to my living hell.

So really, ditch the beer, leave the pub and head to the motorway and become one of us…

Did I convince you?

24 thoughts on “My Living Hell”

  1. Poor you…feel your pain! Used to do the same…pre-kids though so not as painful…hopefully that enormous V&T waiting for you when you finally get home makes it a little better.

  2. I’m actually going to put aside my cold white wine and get out of my dressing gown and slippers just to head out in the car. I’m sold. Or maybe not…hope you get a glass of Friday Night Juice when you get there! x

  3. Oh God, that sounds awful. I have clear memories of being stuck in the general direction of Birmingham on a Friday Night that took over five hours…..poor LBG was not a happy bunny. There should be a priority lane for parents with young children in the car.

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