Poppy – Tracey’s dad and a mechanic – would surely turn in his grave.
If he was dead.
Which he isn’t.
Tracey’s sister and her hubby were having a discussion last week about the state of their older car.
“I just got off the phone with the mechanic,” my sister-in-law said. “It’s not good news.”
“What is it?” my brother-in-law asked.
She sucked air through her teeth and gave her hubby a pained look.
“It’s got a cracked head,” she said.
“Shit.”
“Probably looking at few grand to fix it.”
“Shit. Shit.”
What they didn’t notice while they discussed their options, and made use of low level cuss words, was that they were being overheard.
This became obvious a few days later when they all jumped into the repaired car.
“What are you boys doing?” my sister-in-law asked over her shoulder.
Neither boy had their belts on, nor did they look like they were in any hurry to. They were both stretched up and inspecting the ceiling of the car.
“Where was it, Mum?” Cousin11 asked.
“Yeah,” said Cousin9. “Where was the crack? I think they’ve done a good job. It looks alright. ”
So on account of Poppy not being dead there’ll be no turning in his grave. But I suspect he’ll complete a massive eye-roll.
If we told him.
Which we won’t.
Because we don’t want him to die of embarrassment lol
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“Raising a family on little more than laughs”
