Today, I got lost.
I never get lost.
I have a weird built-in homing device that usually means I can sit ANYWHERE and know which direction points to my house.
I blame/thank my Dad for this weird Homing Pigeon freakishness, and my good sense of direction is often a bone of contention with The Him.
(The Him’s sense of direction is shit. He can’t find his way out of Ikea, but he CAN however apparently move mountains as he’s decided that Mt. Errigal is no longer where it has always been since he moved here. He has yet to realise that he’s wrong, but that’s another story.) 😂
So, today, I got lost… 45 minutes from our house. (The Him will love this.) 👤
I was going to meet Mini-Me on her school tour and having been at the Forest Park MANY TIMES as a child, I knew where to go.
Or so I thought.
My first “Silly Mummy” moment was to follow the bus in front of me, ASSUMING that it was our kids. 😐
(Yes…Ass out of U and Me…. I know, I know…)
I followed the buses to the Friary and only realised that I was in the wrong place when there were no other cars and a group of teenagers stepped off the bus. 😐
From the arse of my memory, I got a flash of a big wooden entrance that I should have looked for, rather than being a silly bitch and following a random bus. I headed back towards the main road, cursing my Silly-Mumminess and thanking the Monks in the Friary, that no one EVER had to know…
Smug that I would not have to look like a Baby-brained-Bimbo-Mummy to all the other My-shit-is-in-control Mummies at the park, I looked in my rear view mirror.
AND realised that the car behind me had been FOLLOWING ME!
So much for my secret.
Another bewildered looking Lovely Mummy was waving frantically at me. I stopped. She’d followed me as she recognised my car. (And because I OBVIOUSLY do a great job at SEEMING like I’ve got my shit together…😂)
So I did what any Perfectly cool 35 year old does when they’re in a spot of bother.
I rang my Daddy. ❤
He tutted at me for being so silly and passing the entrance that I SHOULD have seen on my right and hung up.
He is NEVER WRONG, so, armed with the confidence of my Daddy KNOWING EVERYTHING, off we proceeded… THE WRONG WAY. We drove back into the town, realised we were wrong and turned again.
Because guess what?
Daddy was WRONG. (Which he later admitted so it doesn’t count.) 😂😂
(Mammies are amazing by the way… we were communicating perfectly with flashing lights and the odd horn toot. 👭
We drove back to where we had originally realised we were lost and stopped again.
So Other Lost Lovely Mummy did the sensible thing; she pulled out her iPhone and google mapped us.
Now, because Google maps was completely hammered drunk, he sent us up a laneway that we both KNEW was going the wrong way. (I may have been a bit lost, but I knew when I was in danger of ending up crossing a border into somewhere unknown and terrifying; like Cavan. 😈)
So I pulled in (again) and flashed at Other Lost Lovely Mummy to stop.
And stop she did.
But then as she reversed, her car ended up with a wheel in the ditch. I kid you not… 🙆
So there we were, Two Lovely Mummies, (Well, SHE was lovely. I actually looked like a skank who had been battered through a hedge and spat out. Tracksuit, no muck-up and baseball cap. MINGER.), LOST with one car stuck in the hedge. 😢😢
The Farmer in me saved the day. 👍 Dad not only instilled a (usually) fabulous sense of direction in me, he taught me how to reverse like a stunt driver. When you grow up driving tractors, cars are easy.
So with direction and encouragement from Other Lost Lovely Mummy and some good old fashioned STUBBORNESS, I got her car out of the hedge and back onto the road to nowhere.
We headed back towards civilization, flagged down a car, got directed in the opposite direction to what Daddy had suggested and found the big wooden gate about 500metres down the feckin road.
We got there.
About 45 minutes late, but still.
Two cars, two Lost Lovely Mammies got there, just in time to head off into the woods with our kiddies and to have (another!) fantastic adventure.
The Him did quite a bit of snaughling and head-shaking at me when I told him my not-even-in-need-of-exaggeration story.
So I’ve just told him to piss off, that he should be glad I made it home at all and I have opened a bottle of prosecco to celeb
rate the fact that I survived.
Bottoms up Bitcheepooooos.
And cheers to other Lost Lovely Mummy xxx 🍷🍷