Dot writes: the new car is virtually identical in size and shape to the old car, but somehow I can never tell where its corners are and as a consequence I am dreadfully hesitant about parking it. I drive around carparks making feeble attempts at perfectly decent spaces and withdrawing as I get the angle wrong, eventually parking 500 yards from where I want to be because that’s where the only space is with nothing on either side. My confidence is not improved by Hugh’s helpful commentary.
“You need driving lessons, Mummy,” he says. “Like Spongebob.” (A recurrent plot of Spongebob Squarepants concerns the title character’s terrifying attempts to learn to drive.)
The other day at Tescos I protested. “Hey Mister,” I said, or something similarly assertive, “be quiet back there: I’m the one with the driving license.”
“You’ve got a driving license,” he replied, “but you haven’t got a parking license.”
Teacher, Hugh’s being mean to me…