For the first time since it started I didn’t go to Fit Body Bootcamp for the whole week. A family camping holiday in Germany came first! Luckily the chunnel was so busy that we decided to book the ferry and missed the strike!
So we get up at 5am, ram the car with the kids, bikes, tents etc and head off. Hubby drives for a couple of hours then lets me to take over. I’m happily following TomTom whilst he “catches flies”. Eventually tomtom tells me to leave the motorway in the direction of Folkestone Harbour. There had been some signs for the ferry much earlier but I could not see any at that time so I dutifully follow my instructions. As we get closer to Folkestone Harbour – for those of who haven’t been, ramshackle with boats that look like they have seen better days – this is when my darling husband decides to wake up and take stock. He asks me “What are you doing here?” “Following the insructions that you gave tomtom” – I retorted.
He tries to stay calm but agitation takes over, I’m trying to negotiate the back roads of what seems like a ghost town whilst at the same time enduring his increasing decibels. He bellows “you should have followed the signs”. My response “why put it into TomTom if that is not where want to go? He shouted to me that he couldn’t get Dover port on TomTom and that I should use my common sense and something about it being a sign of weakness allowing a woman to drive! Whilst he continues to morph from a grown man into a 5 year old I figure out that he really messed up by putting in Folkestone when we were supposed to go to Dover – where’s the common sense in that!
I remain totally calm whilst still trying to negotiate the Folkestone back streets with a tantruming toddler as a navigator and time ticking away until the ferry sails and our holiday with it. I realise the funny side of it all, he is blaming me for his mistake because HE put the wrong destination into TomTom. I find myself crying with laughter at the sight of his display of zero self control. Whilst remaining in a superior adult state, I decide to explain to him that he is transferring his anger with himself. That doesn’t go down well as he starts foghorning about mamby pamby bullsh**.
That pressed the button in me that he wanted, now we are both in an age state that combined is lower than my youngest offspring in the back of the car. I gave him what for and used language no self-respecting mother would ever use. He managed it – he won – he brought me down to his level! During all of this he decides to bark at me that he doesn’t want me to drive down the road I am but doesn’t tell me where he does want me to go. So the war of the Roses in front continues whilst we simultaneously fill our children’s sponge like minds with a demonstration of “model” parental behaviour. We did eventually make it to Dover Ferry with 20 minutes spare to mature a few decades. He offered me pursed lips and an apology – my first instinct was to offer him two fingers – instead, I graciously accepted and we touched oral orafaces to great applause from the back of the car!
The rest of the holiday would have been faultless if only he could have kept his mouth shut! The amount of times I had to hear “signs trump tomtom”…. Arriving back at the white cliffs late at night a few days later we drive out of the terminal and Dad listens to the nice lady on the dashboard (ignoring the signs) and we end up heading North going 20 mins in the wrong direction!!!