Evening all, just stopping in to fill you all in on my day. I must warn you, this is the most woeful tale of shit luck you may well ever hear. It does, however, prove 2 things. First, I am not allowed a quiet life. Second, I am possibly the unluckiest person in the world when it comes to cars.
Quick background: I drive a 4x4 and, whilst taking a detour last Friday, got forced to pull right off the road on a single track by a BMW series 1 who was driving like a fucking lunatic. No big deal, thinks I. There's a mud puddle. So pull into it at a mere 15 mph. BANG. That mud puddle is a ditch. No more than half a foot (if that) but enough to jolt the whole car. Don't think much of it. My beast of a car can handle that, right? Wrong. The car starts shaking at 65mph so call the assistance to come out (its only 2 years old) and they tell me I have most likely bent the suspension or some big piece of metal under the car, but they won't touch it as its classed as an rta. I called my mum for a moan and she (bless her) insists I take her car as she is going away and won't need it. That's a big deal because she needs her car day to day as is classed as disabled.
Anyway, I have made it to today with no issues. Dh had a day off work and decided he wanted to see my car. So off we go, in mum's lovely 6 month old Volvo estate, to check out my car. Dh, in all his wisdom, decides kwik fit can probably sort the car. So he drives my car with ds and I following behind. Get to kwik fit and it turns out I've just knocked the tracking and compacted a tonne of mud behind the wheels. Wonderful! My car is fixed. I need the loo before we leave. So lock the Volvo (left bags in it, house keys, car seat, everything.... and off I trot, holding my breath, to the loo. Finish up, flush, pick up the key to my mother's Volvo aaaaand.... drop it down the still flushing toilet. It's gone. I call out the Volvo assistance. They can't get into the car. I call my brother, who lives at home but is in London. He eventually agrees to turn back, if I pay him.[hangry]
I ended up driving for an hour to my parents house, picked up the other key, drove back to the garage, emptied out the Volvo, picked up ds and dh (who had gone to his mum's), got half way home before I remembered the house keys were still in the Volvo, which has stayed at kwik fit with a nail in the tyre. So back to get that and finally home to let the poor dogs out seven hours after leaving. So tired now that I am heading straight to bed.
Anyway, hope that made you all smile. Sorry about the writing, its probably shocking but I'm too tired to care. I promise to catch up with you all tomorrow.