It’s always my fault, no matter what

MURPHY’S Law follows me around. They should rename it Goggin’s law. What can go wrong definitely will go wrong when I’m around. And no matter what happens, it always ends up being my fault. Especially where my kids are concerned. I could be in another country and I would still be blamed. My son phoned me the other night in a state of anguish. He was in a car park outside a supermarket and the car wouldn’t recognise his key. So I went to get him in order to collect his other key and bring him back to the car. Nope. That key wouldn’t work either. So we phoned the breakdown people, who said they were very busy and it would be well over an hour, more like two. So we sat in fraught silence. And then we realised the supermarket people were locking up and putting up bollards to lock us in. Now it was getting very fraught and it was no longer silent.

A very nice guy in another car offered to push the car out on to the road to allow access for the breakdown guy, but I had to move my car to allow this to happen. And that’s where it all became very, very fraught — I had left my lights on and now my car wouldn’t start. My son looked at me in total disbelief. The ‘how could you be such a moron and still be alive’ look. And I burst into hysterical laughter.

“If you don’t laugh you’ll cry,” I managed to splutter and jumped out of the car. He was not amused, but eventually he had to laugh too. As did the breakdown people when we rang them again. And the guy who eventually came out to us couldn’t be consoled. He was falling around the place, such was his mirth. I was of course the fall guy. The eejit in the whole equation. I had a mild moment of triumph when he was able to start my car, but my son’s had to be towed away. One word. Karma.