Two of the things I find most stressful in life are hearing BB cry and being useless to help and driving in London city centre.
Today I got to drive through London city centre with BB screaming in the back. Its a wonder I survived.
The plan was straightforward, as twin boy and girl are currently building sandcastles on Blackpool beach I thought myself and BB could go visit a girlfriend who lives in the north of London. To err on the side of caution I decided to travel when BB religiously has a two hour nap and I also decided to use the Sat Nav rather than my poor sense of direction to get me to my destination.
However, fate took a hand and BB decided to awaken in the foulest of tempers after twenty minutes and Satan re programmed the navigation system re routing me via London City Centre; we could have ran sightseeing tours from the boot as we managed to drive past almost every major tourist attraction.
I found myself immersed in traffic outside Harrods; the car was uncomfortably warm and my stress levels were rising. Trademark london cabs and double decker buses were flying at me from all angles and tired tourists risked their lives darting in and out of the realms of cars all inching along in un clearly marked lanes.
The back of my neck was sweaty as a taxi blared its horn, BB’s wails grew more and more traumatic as I desperately tried to entertain her whilst also trying to not drive into a car, bus or person. I ended up tossing lipsticks, baby wipes, keys and juice cups at her in an attempt to soothe her torment. She merely grabbed them and relaunched them back at my head. Again, not helping the stress levels…
So I did what all self respecting people do…
I looked for someone else to blame.
I blared my horn in annoyance at the taxi driver who swerved in a little too close.
I may have shouted a teeny tiny bit at BB telling her to let me drive in peace.
I cursed he who helped create them for buggering off to cricket and leaving me to journey in solitude.
And I yelled at the calm, unflappable, hugely irritating sat nav lady.
Then finally after an escapade involving a bus lane, no entry street and a cyclist I sat in my car and bawled. Big heaving sobs that BB was jealous of, big fat tears of frustration that at age 33 I still can’t programme a Sat Nav or drive in our nations capital.
And then to make myself feel better I called he who helped create them and yelled some more for a while…
Needless to say, thirty minutes later we arrived in tact at my friends.
Now all I need to do is work out how to get home….