Breakfast Car Troubles

‘Have a good morning!’ Anthony called from the entryway, briefcase in one hand as he fished for his keys with another.

‘Bye, hun!’ I called back, frowning as I tried to trick our toddler into accepting the damn aeroplane. She wasn’t having it today, and pretty soon there was mashed apple all over the floor.

‘Really?’ I asked her, as she giggled and clapped her hands.

Dammit, I thought. That’s too cute to get mad at.

‘Well played,’ I nodded. ‘Well played.’

The door creaked open again, and I got up to see my husband walk back in with a frown.

‘The car wouldn’t start,’ he explained, hurrying over to the fridge for our list of emergency numbers.


‘Yeah, I couldn’t get it to turn over in the driveway.’

‘Could it be your spark plugs?’

‘I doubt it,’ he shook his head. ‘I just had those replaced, when I took it to that trustworthy mechanic close to Raceview for its service.’

‘Ah,’ I nodded. ‘Well, it was nice pretending I knew something helpful.’

Anthony grinned at me as he plugged a few numbers into the kitchen landline. I could hear it ringing from across the kitchen as I dabbed at our daughter’s mouth with a flannel.

‘No luck?’

‘It’s just ringing through,’ he frowned some more. ‘I don’t understand this.’

‘You’d better call your boss and tell him you’ll be late,’ I said. ‘Oh wait! You are the boss!’

He laughed and hung up the handset. ‘You’re right. What’s the rush? I’m in charge!’

‘There you go!’ I grinned. ‘So just spend the morning here, and then we’ll figure out whatever sort of general servicing your car needs.’

He nodded his acceptance, walking over and gratefully taking the flannel and the spoon from my hands.

‘I’ve just gotta grab something from the bedroom,’ I said, letting him take over breakfast duties.

Walking into the room, I collapsed onto the mattress with a sigh, closing my eyes – right after I made sure the spark plugs were still safely hidden under the bed.