I’ve told you a million times don’t exaggerate
“I’m at the leisure centre. My windscreen is smashed!” says my Wife down the phone.
“Crikey. Ok, I’ll bring my car to you and the boys, I’ll drive yours home”
“Oh, it’s OK. I think it’s alright to drive”
“No, too risky. I’ll drive it.” (imagining no windscreen makes for bad drive home for wife+3 boys)
So I proceed to drive into Cirencester, collect my youngest boys from Grandma & Grampy’s where they’d been spoilt for a couple of hours following their swim lesson.
“What are you doing here Dad?”
“I’m taking you down to Mum and you are all going home in my car because Mummy’s car has a smashed windscreen”
“Like when she parked in Waitrose and the back window was smashed?”
“Yes, exactly like that. Mummy’s very unlucky sometimes. ”
We arrive at the leisure centre and I exchange car keys with the wife.
“I’m sure I could have driven it you know” she repeats.
I go to the front of her car to survey the “Smashed” windscreen.
It’s still there. I mean, the glass. There is glass where I expected a hole. There is no hole.
What there is is a classic stone chip and a substantial crack along two thirds of the width. It’s a chip. A chip and a crack (no jokes about female golfers, please).
“That’s not smashed! That’s cracked. You could have driven it home!”
“I did try to tell you that”
“Yeah, but you said SMASHED. That’s what you said. Not cracked, SMASHED.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But, But, never mind. See you at home”.