Is it a bird, is it a plane……. Nope!!

For the last couple of weeks my wife Angie, hasn’t been well. (She’s off work for the rest of the month… my poor ears!!) Seriously, I’ve been worried sick, but she’s ok-ish, slowly improving. Anyway, I’ve tried not to leave her alone for to long, which is proving difficult because I have to visit clients all over Derbyshire.

On this particular day, I had to shoot off to visit someone. Luckily, Angie’s friend came to see her at the exact same moment I was leaving the house. So I shot off like Lewis Hamilton but got stuck in traffic about 10 minutes into the journey. Then the traffic cleared and the road opened up. I put my foot down, eventually catching up with traffic that was sticking to the speed limit. There was 2 cars in front of me. The one leading our pack of 3 was a sporty thing with the soft top down. I couldn’t see the driver properly because of the car directly in front of me. All of a sudden the sporty one turned the speed on. Then, I vaguely saw something white in colour flying towards my windscreen. I slowed down and swerved a little to avoid it.

It flew past me so fast I couldn’t tell what it was. Was it a bird, a rabbit, a piece of white paper?! I looked in the rear view but couldn’t see any sign of it so I assumed it must have been a pigeon or a white bird. Then it dawned on me when the sporty one slowed down rapidly, indicated and stopped by the side of the road. As I drove past, I glanced and saw a bald headed man in the driving seat with a bright pink splodge on top of his head. I had just witnessed his wig or toupee taking flight!

I could see he was in the process of swearing and cursing himself for causing his hairpiece to leave it’s resting place without permission!

I chuckled to myself and wondered what the pink splodge was on top of his head. It amused me to think he had used denture gum to keep his wig in place. I rang Angie to tell her what I’d just witnessed to cheer her up. She was still laughing when I ended the call. The things you see!!!

A New Adventure

So, my daughter gets married next Saturday morning at 11am. 27th August 2022.

I’m not sure how I feel. I’m proud, sad, excited, anxious, happy, restless, tearful, nostalgic and I have an overwhelming sense of love and melancholy. It’s strange but comforting, if you know what I mean!!

The moment my daughter Becky was born, I felt protective and vulnerable because I had never experienced a love that was all consuming. Like a bolt of lightning, I loved in a way that I have never understood.

3 minutes after beck was born, I held her, lifted her up to my face and kissed her. I breathed her in, brushed my lips and nose over her delicate little face and cried. She responded by latching onto my nose with her mouth and suckled for all she was worth. I would have died for her at that moment. I would die for her now.

She’ll always be my little girl. I’m so happy for her 💓 💗

Rhodes Trip Part 2: A Nightmare unfolds.

Before I get into the nightmare scenario at the airport, I going to reel off the nicknames we all earnt and damn well deserved during the holiday. My name became ‘Satnav Not’, Angie became ‘Sandra the divorcee ‘, Stu became the ‘Wandering Cowboy’, Dave became the ‘Historical Jukebox ‘, Julie became the ‘Laughing Seal and Jackie became ‘Flirty Girty ‘. The reasons behind every nickname will make sense over the course of all 97 episodes.  (Only joking!) It will only be 95……

We unloaded Dave’s car and walked with our baggage to a bus stop to wait for the bus to take us to the airport entrance.  The bus was choka block with passengers so we had to stand in the Isles, which wasn’t great for Stu because of his walking difficulties. (I’m pretty sure Jackie farted because she miraculously created a little bit more room for herself: only joking Jackie!!) We arrived at the entrance and dragged our luggage after us. Before we went into the airport, cigarettes and ecigs were sucked on with great big salivating deep intakes of breath before we entered the lions den. The queue was big but unavoidable.  Luckily, a person who worked at the airport noticed Stu was struggling, so he was led to a seat, where he stayed until we had reached the check-in desk. Angie took charge and ‘Ordered’ everyone to have passports and Covid papers at the ready. I stood and gazed at her and imagined the words that were buzzing around in her Musslini like mind “Zer must be no delays”. (Just joking Angie!!) Anyway, we reached the check-in desk and went through the usual rigmarole, then it was time to weigh the luggage. “You’re overweight ” said the lady in charge. (I thought rude, but fair enough lol) Seriously, all the luggage was over the limit, but Angie disagreed, and produced the paperwork that indicated our luggage allowance.  The woman looked at it very briefly and stuck to her decision, we were overweight. I’m not sure what was going through the minds of the other 5, but I looked at the growing queue behind us and thought ‘Fuuuccckkk’! So, we were advised to stand to the side and take items from our cases and transfer them into our hand luggage. (Didn’t make any kind of sense to me because no matter what Bag our possessions were in, we would still be boarding the plane with the same weight) Anyway, we stood to the side and watched other people go through the check-in without a hitch. Luggage was opened, underwear and other items of clothes were swapped from one to the other. (Not sure what Jackie was carrying in her suitcase, but it was long and sausage shaped, hiding in a black carrier bag) Just joking Jackie!! Stu had been brought across to us and stood watching the Great clothing swap because he couldn’t bend down. Eventually, we finished and waited for the chance to jump in and get our cases re-weighed. We were still over the limit (I really wish I had been over the limit at that precise moment) but it cost us £60 rather than the extortionate amount the first person had quoted us. We paid and moved towards security/customs and then we walked through the duty free shops, looking longingly at the tempting bottles of alcohol.  It didn’t take us long to find a bar and sit down with a cold one, apart from Stu, who strangely, opted for water!! We found the smoking section and looked out onto the runway whilst we puffed away, relaxation overriding our stress levels.  Back at the table in the bar, we finished our first pint, then all meandered towards our boarding gate to sit, chatter like excited kids and wait. About 20 minutes before we were due to board, airport security came into view and ordered everyone to move in the direction she was pointing.  People moved blindly, most of whom, didn’t bother to ask why. Not Angie. Her breasts became bigger and angry, inflated with frustration, and she surprisingly asked in a very calm tone why we were being asked to move, adding our friend Stu was tired and couldn’t walk much further. The security lady said, “A suspicious package has been found, we’re evacuating everyone “. (Hello stress levels, welcomeback!!) We followed the herd of sheep, stopping briefly so Stu could rest. (Angie actually took charge of Stu’s health and went to commandeer a wheelchair. Not sure where she found the wheelchair but we passed a legless old lady trembling on the floor, blood poring from her nose) Joking Angie!! Eventually, we came to a halt because we couldn’t go any further and came to a large room packed to the rafters with a few hundred fellow suffering travellers. We found chairs to sit on and waited and waited and waited and…… A policeman came and stood by the entrance and he was instantly surrounded by inquisitive people, all asking the same bloody question.  After about 3 hours of sitting in what effectively became a sweatbox, the all clear was given and different departure gates began to blink on the screens overhead.

We sat down at the gates and waited again, eventually walking down onto the tarmac towards the big bird waiting to fly us to a little piece of paradise.

I’ve Got An Electric Toothbrush, Where Shall I Stick It? Rhodes Trip.

The sun, the sand and the beautiful historical island of Rhodes beckoned us, and we damn well followed the call like arsonists to a dry forest. The difference with this 2 week (3 years delayed holiday) was the usual 4 (Me, Angie, Stuey and Jackie) were joined by Dave and Julie (Angie’s Dad and mum) The island was not ready for us, this virgin Island was about to be butt fucked by 6 aging sex fiends (We wish!!) Actually, we are more like 5 retired vibrators with the batteries removed.

I can’t speak for everyone, but for me, the holiday vibe begins when the eyes open on the morning of the day of departure. The batteries are temporarily in the vibrator and you’re buzzing with excitement. That’s how it felt when I bounced out of bed. Bags had been packed the night before and taken downstairs. all that was needed was a coffee at the crack of dawn and then wait for Dave and Jue to arrive at our house. (Stu and Jackie were picked up by me an hour earlier and brought down to the house) Excited chitter chatter filled the air as we waited for Dave and Jue. A military precision plan had been formulated by Ang to put all 6 suitcases and 5 hand luggage into Dave’s car and for Stu and Jackie to travel to the airport with me and Angie. We paced the living room like rabid tigers waiting for Dave and Ju to arrive (Stu sat in the garden making clouds with his ecig, chilled to the max) They arrived and Ju came breezing in full of holiday beans. Dave remained outside smoking a cigarette. The first thing that Ju said to us was “I’ve got an electric toothbrush, where shall I stick it”!? A ripple of laughter escaped and she looked at me and said “Oh God, what have I just said”! Of course I remembered that unforgettable phrase, hence the title of this first installment.

So the scene was set, the bags were put into Dave’s car and for some inexplicable reason, I was given the role of leading our little convoy to the airport (Big, big, bigggggg mistake, because my inner satnav is, has been and always will be scrambled and nonsensical) Actually, we only live a 30 minute drive to the airport and I’ve driven there several times over the years, so I foolishly believed in myself. I did ask Angie to check what exit we needed on the M1, and then we set off. Now, Angie will not admit this, but she gave me the WRONG instruction because we flew by the junction we needed (I knew in my head we had driven past it but I simply followed Angie’s instruction) We found out that Dave and Julie also recognised I had driven past it but followed anyway, probably thinking I knew a quicker route. The second I drove past it, Angie informed me I had missed the slip road. My reply was to inform her that she had instructed me to get off at the next exit!! She denied it but I stuck to my guns. Anyway, we got off at the next exit with Dave behind us, probably thinking to himself, “What a twat!” Then somehow, as I carried on along the road, I looked in the rear view and I couldn’t see Dave (I missed the turning again!) Eventually I arrived at the entrance to the airport carparks but couldn’t see Dave. Presuming Dave had got there 3 hours before me lol, we followed the signs to our carpark and parked up. (Still no sign of Dave and Ju) Angie got out of the car and went to scan the huge carpark for her dad’s car, Eventually spotting them driving towards her. She waved at them and ushered them to where we had parked. Dave and Ju parked alongside us and got out, then told us they had driven into the wrong carpark, which cost them £5 to get back out of it for a grand total of 1 minute!!! So that was our journey to the airport, and just when I thought the stress had ended, I was wrong. It became much worse and funnier. More to follow.