Tuesday 8 April 2008

Of feet and cars

A landmark was officially reached at the weekend. After months and achingly long months when the boy was determined to match me in size, he's finally done it. Not in height, but in feet size. And we have the snow to thank for bringing it to our attention. Sunday's unexpected (by me at least) fall gave us the opportunity of enjoying the unusual past time of strolling along a snow covered Brighton beach. With the unusual foresight known only to teenagers, the boy had come down with nothing more than a light pair of trainers. Back up was called for, so a rummage in my wardrobe produced a pair of M&S hiking boots. They fitted well, prompting a foot comparison challenge. Both of us sat on the floor end to end with feet touching to reveal that his big toe is slightly longer than mine by a half size, whilst the others are slightly shorter. None the less the biggness cannot be denied. Consequently the boots have not been removed (from his feet) since and there are now almost hourly requests to try-on other elements of my prized footwear collection.

When I was young a friend of my brother decided to move the family car...a rather attractive Vauxhall Viva estate in fetching pale blue with red vinyl interior...from one part of the drive to another. With all the confidence that absolute ignorance and stupidity provides, it seemed like a good idea. The car plunged through the gate bringing down the ancient wall to which it was attached. Two red-faced boys pushed the car back to its starting point, noticing as they did that by a miracle, there was no damage to the car itself. A cunning story was devised to place the blame firmly on haunches of the family alsation (yes she really did jump up as someone passed, bring said gate to the ground). It became something of a legend in the family annals, with the suspicion always being that the elder brother was to blame. Last year after a glass or two of wine, the truth was finally revealed..which was a bit like finding out that father Christmas doesn't exist. There was a complete flashback when the boy mentioned yesterday that whilst left home alone, he'd gone to retrieve a CD from the car CD player. To do this he'd put the key in the ignition and turned to power up the audio. Fortunately only one notch. But I can still in my head see four a half litres of V8 powered shiny black BMW embeded in garage wall.