Imagine my complete and utter delight when I read the following on a sign at the petrol pump:
To avoid police investigation, please pay for petrol before you leave.
Before I knew it, I’d been whisked away to an undisclosed holiday location in my mind where I found myself thinking about how shady underworld figures must feel immensely cheered by this sign.
“Why, it must be some kind of Petrol Pump Amnesty!” I imagined they’d say to themselves. “Simply by paying for my petrol, the police will instantly drop all ongoing investigations into my immensely illegal activities. And it doesn’t matter what crimes I commit in the future as long as I keep paying for my petrol. Sorted!”
I can only imagine how disappointed they’d feel when they then got busted the very next day.
Having pulled the Love Bus into a difficult spot with surprising ease, I was feeling pretty damn chuffed with myself and wished I had someone to share my moment of Parking Glory with.
And then a woman touched me on the arm at the entrance of the supermarket and said: “Is that your van?”
“Yes,” I said, bursting with pride and almost adding “You’re admiring the kick-arse parking job I did, aren’t you?”
Luckily I didn’t, because she said “Uh, you’ve left your lights on.”
You may not know it but every day in our household a bitter battle between the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the Star Wars Teddies is being waged by my oldest two children. Those Star Wars teddies are mean-ass mo’fos from what I can gather and the TMNTs are often more interested in going shopping than they are in carrying out complex military strategies. So it wasn’t that surprising when the Pixie, who was leading the TMNT charge, suddenly exclaimed “Ooooh Here comes Santa! He’s saying ‘Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas!’”
Still, I thought to myself, “Wow. You know, I haven’t done too bad a job with parenting that little girl. She’s introduced a benign, neutral character to diffuse a dangerous situation with Christmas Cheer. Awww…. “
And then she went and said “Yay!!! Santa’s going to give us guns!!!”.
Remind me to get her to pay for the petrol next time we fill up, just as a pre-emptive thing, just in case the Petrol Pump Amnesty turns out to be real.
“This isn’t a real post?” I can hear people muttering to themselves. “It’s just some random moments hastily cobbled together to vaguely resemble a post.”
No, it’s not a real post, I say to those people. Deal with it.
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