Chauffeur Driven
We spent yesterday being chauffeur driven by Dad. It was so funny. He did a great job of looking after both me and Mum as well as all our fetching and carrying. Mum had worked out where everything could go in the car so she could sit on the back seat but with the front seat flat to put her legs up. She wasn’t too uncomfortable, which was good. I had offered to share my crate with her, but she didn’t think that would work for some reason.
Knowing the Route
Mum knows the route so well because she does it so often. When Dad travels he generally flies so he is not so familiar with it. It was ok when Mum remembered to tell him the important things like where the turnings were. I know what you’re saying, he could follow the sat-nav. Of course he could, but the sat-nav in Mum’s car isn’t very good and doesn’t have all the roads on, so that can go a bit wrong.
Service Station Chaos
Now sadly I missed this as I was waiting in the car, but the first service station stop did not go quite to plan. Dad suggested they have coffee and apple strudel. Mum thought it was a great idea and as she was so slow moving around she said she would catch up with him. When she came out of the toilets she rang him to ask where he was. ‘The escalator where we came in,’ was his reply. She hobbled back on her crutches. He wasn’t there. She rang him again. ‘By where we came in,’ he replied. She went down the lift to the doors. Still no sign of Dad. She rang him again. When he said ‘where we came in’ what he really meant was ‘completely the other side of the motorway by the escalator that goes in the opposite direction’. By the time she got back to the car Mum was a little tired, but seemed to see the funny side.
Love
Wilma
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