I needed to go into town today to post something and I also needed to go to the farm shop. I was feeling environmentally considerate and fetched the bike from the garage. I told Hannah and Ethan where I was going, and how, and Hannah wanted to join me.
Having fetched Hannah’s bike, bike helmets, a rucksack and a CamelBak for Hannah, we were off.
Five yards beyond the back gate I realised Hannah had a puncture.
We retraced our cycle tracks back to the garden and we reconsidered. Fixing the puncture wasn’t an option because this one had already been examined by the master of bicycle maintenance and had been deemed to be very slow puncture. We thought we might just be able to inflate and go and it would hold, instead we had bulging inner tube issues. I know, too much detail.
After a quick chat Hannah and I decided we’d take scooters. She’d take hers, and I’d borrow Ethan’s. I know, I’m 42 what the hell was I thinking?
Into town and I was keeping up with Hannah. The advantage of being an adult is increased momentum. I was fully aware that I was being laughed at. I mean it’s fairly obvious when people point at you whilst they’re in hysterics. Being 42 I was too old to care.
We made it to the farm shop, all downhill, and started the return journey and trying to gain altitude, and therefore potential energy (what goes up must come down), made our legs ache. At this point I had two heavily laden jute bags hanging from the scooter handles. This gave me even more momentum but adversely affected scooter handling.
Something funny happened as we crossed the road. Funny peculiar. I don’t know whether I fell off the scooter or tripped over the scooter but the net result was me sprawled in the road, bags, scooter and limbs everywhere. Hannah was lovely and very concerned but nobody else batted an eyelid. My ego was more battered than my body and we made it home without further incident.
Hannah rang the bell and Dave answered. Hannah was describing our adventures and Dave realised I’d taken the scooter out. Dave asked Hannah “Mummy went on a scooter too?” and then couldn’t stop laughing except for the time it takes to say “Oh Hannah, I wish you’d had a camera.”
You can’t beat a bit of spousal support when you’re trying, and succeeding, to get down with the kids.
2 comments:
Very funny story, thanks. It remind me of story of uncle Miloš. I was 13 and with friends in fields when Miloš arrived with his dog and gun. He ask if we want to shoot shotgun and we say yes! So we each fire, bang! Lovely jubbly fun. Then it's become turn of little blind Gojko. Oh Gojko!
Gojko was nervous boy, big glasses and when uncle Miloš dog bark, he has fired shotgun into uncle Miloš cock region! Oh my God! Such screams!
When father and neighbour Radosav arrive, they think squealing sheep has been shot. When they see it's only uncle Miloš, man they laugh!
Ah, such memories.
Oh sorry, sorry. I understand that my arrangement is to I reply to comments only. Not provide automatically my funny memories of Bosnia-Herzogovina village life.
PS Miloš was OK but a bit limp.
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