This post is a recount of a funny story from a few years ago. I have not embellished.
My friend Suzie was in her fancy house, situated in a very well-to-do area of Hornswood (being the mystical little suburbs snuggled between Hornsby and Chatswood). Her baby was having “no-nappy” time, while the four-year old was watching The Wiggles.
While trying to not be driven mad by mashed potato, mashed potato, Suzie glanced at the clock.
Suzie – “OH F*CK! IT’S 3:48! THE KIDS!”
The five and seven-year-olds had been sitting up at the school for the last 48 minutes, waiting to be picked up. The office had not rung with that scary why haven’t you picked up your kids call.
Where were the kids??
Suzie – “F*CK. F*CK. F*CK”.
Moving like NRL legend Brett Morris, she scooped up the older boy from the TV. He started to cry, as he was not mash potato’d-out. She grabbed the baby off the ground and sprinted to the door, imagining the worst up at Hornswood Primary.
Sprinting with a child under each arm, she pulled the front door shut behind her, which dulled the mashed potato, mashed potato. The dog followed but that was OK, she could shove him into the car.
Suzie realised her car-keys were sitting on the kitchen table. The door had locked tight.
Suzie – “F*CK. F*CK. F*CK”.
She started to sweat like me in a sauna. She sprinted with the two kids over to her neighbour who was standing in her drive. The only issue there, was that the neighbour had only moved in yesterday and they hadn’t met.
A hurried, sweaty 30-second explanation saw Suzie drop the crying, nappyless baby in neighbour Jacquie’s arms, plop the bawling four-year old and growling dog at her feet and run to neighbour Jacquie’s car in the drive, after asking for the keys.
Neighbour Jacquie’s car is a nice, new Audi. Suzie jumps in, thinking of nothing but the two kids up at the school, probably wandering off with some stranger at that moment. The stereo came on, “skyrockets in flight… afternoon delight… Aaaaafternoon delight…”
Suzie slams it into R, accelerates and the ultra-responsive car jumps backwards, smashing into neighbour Jacquie’s brick wall and knocking it onto a 45-degree angle and taking out two panels on the new Audi. The side mirror exploded like a glass-filled piñata, but Suzie had no choice. She had to keep going.
She pulled the car out on to the road, had one last look at an open-mouthed neighbour Jacquie gazing at her tilting wall which she had only owned for a day. Her husband’s new Audi was smashed, she had a stranger’s nappyless baby screaming in her arms, dog sniffing her leg (probably considering throwing the hump) and a four-year old crying at her feet. Suzie mouthed I’m sorry to neighbour Jacquie and planted her foot down.
Now being a high-powered Audi, Suzie commenced the most enormous burnout that Rosemeadow Rd in Hornswood had ever seen. She sat there, wheels spinning and squealing, the whole car filling with acrid blue smoke from the red-hot tyres. The burnout went for so long, she got to mouth twice more I’m sorry to neighbour Jacquie before eventually the tyres gripped and the car shot forward.
Suzie, flying up to Hornswood Primary, rang her gardener who was in their backyard at the time, to go over to neighbour Jacquie’s, apologise and look in to fixing up the wall immediately.
Les the gardener is a very gruff, dirty (physically), overalls-wearing, old guy.
Neighbour Jacquie, was still quite in shock. She had moved all the kids inside and understandably wasn’t too keen on opening the door to a grotty looking man she’s never met, who is allegedly the gardener of the crazy lady who just kid-dumped, Audi-smashed and speed-drove.
Eventually he convinced neighbour Jacquie that Suzie was insisting he get the wall fixed, so she came out on the veranda to discuss the issue. At that moment, Jacqui’s two-year-old son, slammed her front door closed, leaving Suzie’s two and her one child, alone inside with the dog (as if the situation could have got any worse).
Les, in his filthy overalls, then had to get a boost from neighbour Jacquie (and Les is no small man), up into her en-suite window, so he can get inside her house and open the door. Neighbour Jacquie, also understandably having only moved in the day before, did not have the most neat and tidy bathroom because she did not expect to be boosting some burly gardener through the window.
Suzie and Jacquie are now… estranged.
And the kids were fine.
Thanks for reading. I write short blog posts, oftentimes simply to claim at parties much to my wife’s chagrin, that I am in fact… a writer. If you could Share far and wide via the buttons below, that would be amazing. I need to one day be a famous contributor to the noble art, of blogging. Cheers