✍️No sooner I got back to the UK than I was commandeered as my daughter’s chauffeur. She was off to fight in the Abu-Dhabi grand Slam. I should probably mention both of my children are world ranked 🥋judo players.
She can get really grumpy and difficult 😩 as she approaches big fights, and so I try to be understanding and not react to bad manners.
“Drive me to Heathrow, dad!” she growled, without a please or a smile. She was particularly stressed at the time and her mind was focused on what she saw as more important things.
It was more of a command than a request, but I wasn’t going to argue with her. In fact, I was delighted to have the opportunity to have 2 1/2 hours to speak with her. 150 minutes of one-to-one time was more than she’d given me in total over the past year!
I was really looking forward to the conversation.
We were up at 4 am and planned to leave at 4:15 am. Personally, I wanted to depart an hour earlier, but my Lele, my daughter fondly referred by my wife and I as last-minute.com wouldn’t have it.
“Come on dad, don’t give me STRESS!” She walked away not want to discuss it a more. I thought it would be far less stressful to leave earlier in case of incident.
At 4:14 am, I offered to put her case in the car and got a growled at again.
“Go and sit in the car dad, I’ll be right out!” she said in an extremely irate tone of voice. I’d heard that statement a few times before, but being a compliant father, I did what she requested and went through the ritual I’d experienced so many times before.
WAITING!
The females in my family are all ALWAYS late!
😠I waited and waited, drumming my fingers and shivering with cold.
At 4:45 am, she appeared and threw her case in the back of the car and jumped in the front, obviously highly irritable.
“Come on, let’s go!” she said as the door slammed.
“Put your foot down, dad!” was her next comment before we had even left the driveway, and we drove through the country lanes towards the motorway.
I tried asking her a few questions, and I got growled at.
“I’m tired. I don’t want to speak at this hour!” And to make her point, she promptly fell asleep. So much for daddy and daughter time.
The journey along the M4 towards London was uneventful, and in the same way dogs tend to wake from their slumber as they approach their home, Lele, woke up as we left the motorway and drove into Heathrow Airport, her timing was perfect.
We were at terminal four. I’ve never been here before and headed directly towards the drop-off zone. No sooner had I pulled up than my daughter was out of the car, faster than an escaping shoplifter.
“Thanks 🤟 dad, you know what time to pick me up next week?” I did. It was another overnight journey. I also saw I had to pay £5 for the privilege of the twenty-seconds it took for her to get out of the car and grab her bag.
Beep, BEEP,
It was a giant four-wheel-drive 😡 blowing his horn and flashing its lights aggressively! Some people can be so impatient and didn’t have a second to waste, or maybe they had an emergency? But who needs an argument or road rage at this time of the morning? So I drove off.
I thought that there would be a barrier and payment facility just up the road, there wasn’t and still the impatient car was so close behind me it looked as though the driver was sitting in my back seat. What was wrong with this guy?
He got all my attention. Getting out of this idiot’s way was my main priority, I didn’t give the drop off payment, another thought. Not until two weeks later, and way after my daughter had returned, then £80 parking fine arrived.
Pooh!
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