I got Jack ready for mega-ballet-mum-nightmare-concert-weekend while Mr Woog decided to take a trailer load of stuff up to Jabba the Hut, along with a protesting Harry.
I was waiting at ballet rehearsal for tomorrows concert when I got the call.
The Mazda had blown up on the F3, about 20 minutes from it's final destination. Mr Woog asked me to come and collect him and Harry. Which was fine, but he had the car. And the car was dead.
I know I have called it too soon in the past, but this time, she has really gone. Gone to the big spare parts yard in the sky. Gone to where no one can hurt her anymore.
Thank you dear Mazda Tribute, for years of solid service, apart from the last 6 months where you have been a total pain in the butt. A bit of a diva, if I may be honest.
God Speed, you money pit. And thank you for your concern, Mr Tow-Truck driving man. Please join me for a few minutes of reflection, of a once mighty beast.
Where to from here?
Where to from here?
