This photo was taken this morning before I lost the will to live driving the little shits down the M62 to meet their cousins.
We got stuck on the motorway as we nearly always do. We got stuck from the moment that we joined the carriageway.
An electronic sign on the newly made “smart” part of the motorway informed us that junction 13 to 17 were heavily congested. I had Bella look up where these junctions were so as to ascertain if we were to be affected.
“Just google, where is junction thirteen on the M62? Erm westbound???, No eastbound because we are east, no west, no east of Huddersfield but heading west….is that right? “
“I don’t know I’m ten”
“Google says it doesn’t know mum!”
The boys grew bored of kicking the shit out of each other and demanded to play a game.
“Mum, let’s play a game!”
“Let me think, errrrr NO!”
“Why mum? We want to play a game. We’re bored. Can we play the game where we count the number of coloured cars?
“Why not Mummy? Let’s play a game”
“No, I’m sorry I hate playing games in the car because it leads to violence. You always fall out and start crying, then start twatting each other”
“PLEASE MUMMY, WE WILL NOT FIGHT, WE PROMISE”
“Ok, Oscar, you can be purple, Ted yellow and Bella Orange”
“No, that’s not fair, I want to be white!”
“You can’t count white cars as there are too many. You need to look for more unusual colours!”
“I hate purple”
“I hate Orange”
“Yellow is rubbish”
“LOOOK A YELLOW CAR” I shouted to try and ease them into it.
“Aaaaaaaarrrggghhhh that’s not fair Mummy, you are helping”
“LOOOOOOOOOOK, AN ORANGE ONE, AND ANOTHER!”
“I want to be Orange”
“Well, I am Orange”
And then they started twatting each other again.
We thundered along the fifty mile an hour route, doing ten miles an hour with occasional stops. Bella kept winding down the window and saying that she was going to vomit and complaining that she could smell poo.
“That’s because we are next to the sewage plant darling and you have wound the window down and have your head out of the window!”
The new smart part of the motorway is very small and has been three years in the making. All of a sudden though, for the first time ever , there were tons of men working on the bit that isn’t yet “smart”.
We went past all the signs on the motorway where it informed us to not exceed the speed limit because “My Daddy works here”. When we see these signs of the little boy in the hard hat, we like to shout
“No he fucking doesn’t, no fucker works here. It’s been down to fifty miles an hour for three years because nobody’s Daddy is here at all”
Jumpsuit Rew Clothing
Jacket whistles, I will never disclose the price
Boots Zara £39.99
Necklace H&M €5