Dickheads R Us...

Okay, there's a junction in Helston with traffic lights to control the flow of cars coming from the left (obviously, if you're on the other side of the road, it's the right...) We're on the left approaching the junction when the lights turn red. Eldest son is driving so he slows, stops at the lights, pulls on the handbrake and finds his biting point. (Are you having hot flashbacks to your driving lessons, yet??)

The lights change to green, he releases the handbrake and slowly moves off indicating his turn to the left. Now, what does the dickhead on the other side of the road do? He has no green filter and should only turn if the road is clear. Is the road clear? No, there's a learner driver there just starting to make the turn, so what does he do? Yep! You guessed it, the prize pillock just decides to pull across in front of us. And lo, and behold, a motorcyclist figures he can squeeze through too!!

Eldest son had that look on his face; I just knew he was contemplating ramming into them as just punishment for being tossers. He must have done the sums quickly in his head: smacking dickhead = caved in front of our car = car off the road = no more driving.

Sensible choice, son.

"Mu-um! Get a life!"

Never let it be said that I don't know how to have a good time. Eldest son just dropped youngest son off to a sleepover and then dropped himself off to stay at a mate's overnight. I finally got to drive my own car home for the first time in a week.

And what, I hear you cry, am I doing with my child-free evening? Am I hosting a rave? Will I drag a young, nubile guy home from the pub for a night of unadulterated, wild sex? Will I, for once, keep the neighbours awake?

Nope! I've snuggled into pyjamas and am gonna eat Chinese special fried rice in front of a kid's film showing on Sky. For afters, I've stocked up on Galaxy chocolate and Cadbury's Creme Eggs (Easter was over far too quickly...)

I've always wondered what my kids meant when they said, "Mu-um! Get a life!"

Driving Ms Carney...

Oh God, the first driving lesson hosted by moi. And I use the word 'lesson' loosely. If eldest son is behind the wheel careering along the road and I'm pinned to the passenger seat catatonic with fear, then, let's face it - there's not a whole lot of instruction going on; it's more a case of bumper-cars and trying not to vomit.

Actually, the whole experience wasn't too horrendous; there was a bit of bouncing between the kerb and parked cars, but once the Valium kicked in, I was fine. And I needed a new front nearside tyre anyway...

He's been riding a moped for a year, so he's certainly developed some road sense, but I'll be a lot happier when the proverbial penny drops and he realises a car takes up a smidge more space than a bike and doesn't quite tuck into a hedge as neatly as a ped, and when a Truronian bus is hurtling through the lanes towards you, launching yourself into the back seat, doesn't actually move the car out of its way.

Oh, no. That was just me.