Friday - The traffic's a Nightmare!

Mr G and I are really excited about going to see Michael McIntyre this week.
If you have not seen his live DVD, I highly recommend it.

On Friday, we set off to Oxford at 10am for my friend's wedding where I was due to be Bridesmaid, laughing as I reinacted a scene from Michael McIntyre's DVD where he jokes about people being scared to travel on a Friday because "traffic's a nightmare on Fridays!".

If only we knew then that a mere 9 hours later, we would finally be turning up to Oxford, having missed the wedding rehearsal, in a different car to the one we set off in.

It was all going so well until we reached Exeter and I asked Mr G if he could smell burning.

"Hmmm. I think I can actually" came his reply.

"I thought I could smell it yesterday. Do you think we should stop?"

"Maybe".

We pulled in at Exeter services and I called my Dad, the mechanic who had changed my brakes two days earlier.

Something you should know about my Dad is his standard response to anything that goes wrong: "Well it shouldn't be", as is about to be perfectly demonstrated by the following exchange:

"Alright Dad, can you talk?"

"Yes love, what's up?"

"Well you know my new brakes? Would they smell as they were settling down?"

"No love."

"Ok, then in which case, I can smell burning."

"Burning?!"

"Yes Dad. I think it's coming from the brakes."

"Well it shouldn't be!"

"I know that Dad, that's why I'm telling you..."

Three hours later we were off on our merry way in a hire car, leaving my car for my poor father to fix over the weekend.

No sooner had we got back on the road, we hit heavy traffic which lasted hours. I thought it best to keep the Bride to Be posted, which I'm sure added an element of excitement to her day.

We finally arrived a good two hours after the wedding rehearsal had finished, and I was so short on time I had to spend the pre-wedding dinner sat in a pair of leggings whilst everyone else was dressed up to the nines. All adding to my reputation as crap bridesmaid extraordinaire.

What a nightmare.