Comes out in the wash
THE MESSAGE CAME IN at 1600 hours on Saturday. Garbled but at the same time quite clear. “Stroppy. Overwhelmed. Emotional. Hangry” — the latter being a combination of hungry and angry at the same time.
It was clear we needed to act. And fast. So Mrs P and I gathered our forces and swung into action.
Through that evening and in the early dawn hours of the next day a steady flow of vital supplies and equipment was loaded into every nook and cranny of our transporter with military precision.
And at 0900 hours on Sunday morning we headed for the front. To do our duty and rescue one brave soldier — our future son-in-law and former army officer Builder Boy.
And, of course, his pregnant wife to be, our little cherub The Boomerang Child who is 29 weeks into her mission.
Now for those of you who have experienced pending grandparenthood you will know exactly what I am talking about here.
This is the bit where it suddenly dawns on the parents-to-be that the belly bump really is going to turn into a little person in 77 days, or, if you want to be really dramatic and can do the maths (which I have) the time it would take you to count off the seconds to 6,652,800.
I should point out the kids have done a great job thus far. Read all the books, got the nursery painted, gathered clothes, Googled everything they can on parenthood etc etc. All those things you do.
But obviously the emotional rollercoaster they are riding is a little harder to prepare for.
And it was this Builder Boy and I were discussing on the phone Saturday afternoon. He was at the front where all the action was. I was at the rear command post I like to call “home” some 80km away.
Naturally I forwarded the report up the command chain to General Mrs P and before you know it we have pulled up outside the home of the PW (pregnant woman).
The next few hours were a bit of a blur to be honest. Mrs P offered support and generally busied herself doing the million little odd jobs that always seem to need doing. But the main thing was she gave Boomerang Child a big hug (as you do) and that seemed to help.
Then they settled down to watch a romance on the telly. Tears may even have flowed.
Builder Boy and I stayed away outside and carried on working through the inevitable jobs list where I got down to the “wash car” entry.
Now I will put my hand up here and say I’ll go for the automated car wash every time. Usually while I hide away inside with a nice coffee. Maybe even a bit of chocolate, as the thing whirs, slaps and blows all round me. Sounds weird I know but I can lose myself for five minutes. Longer if I push the boat out and go for the De Luxe wash with special paint protecting waxing feature.
It was in that frame of mind that I got my coffee and Snickers bar and sat in the car wash as it began.
I was barely 30 seconds in, with the initial light spray doing its thing, when it occurred to me this particular car wash was a bit noisy.
Then, as the full on water jets fired up I realised one of the back side windows was still open and the wash water was firing in unhindered.
Ordinarily this would mean the release of an expletive and a quick fumble for the automatic window control. I say ordinarily. That didn’t happen — well the expletive did — but I couldn’t close the window as the car is an old manual with windup windows.
There ensued a mad scramble inside where I had to put down my coffee and Snickers and somehow haul my not inconsiderable frame through the gap between the front seats to the point I could reach the window winder and get the damn thing back up.
I succeeded but the seat was saturated.
It would be fair to say it was a troublesome drive back to the home of the Boomerang Child.
I decided not to say anything for fear of causing further upheaval to her current emotional position.
I’d just give it a chance to dry. It would be sweet. I hoped.
As I arrived I found Mrs P, Builder Boy and the Boomerang Child all sitting outside. Spirits were much improved and it seemed plans were being made for a stroll at the park.
Unfortunately for me Boomerang Child had decided we would drive to the park. We’d be taking her car.
Given her current state there was no point suggesting otherwise. She would drive with Builder Boy next to her and Mrs P and I sitting in the back seat.
Guess who had to sit on the wet side and say nothing?
I was barely 30 seconds in, with the initial light spray doing its thing, when it occurred to me this particular car wash was a bit noisy.