An Old Story

Re-reading my posts, there seems to be a bit of navel gazing going on and I'm most unimpressed. I'm funnier than that. Believe me. I am.
I was telling my sister this tragic story about being very un-funny in my blog and she said "Tell the story about the time when......"
Isn't that cheating?
That story must be 18 years old.
Shouldn't a blog be current?

Well, thanks for getting me over that hurdle, sis.
This one's for you.

I was a new driver and I was taking my sis (and some other person I can't remember) to Carols in the Domain.
Unfamiliar with the city, I had been having some navigational difficulties ( I don't think I was lost, but frustrated with one way streets etc.) and was finally heading in the right direction.
I turned onto the street I wanted and stopped at the traffic lights. Traffic started to line up on the opposite side of the intersection. Then it started to line up directly opposite me. It was like a starting grid for a race. And it was facing me!
I was going the wrong way on a one way street.
A very big one way street.

Oh, no
Holy cow
Oh, ****
Oh, bugger
WHAT DO I DO NOW???

A flash of inspiration led me to back back to the lane I had come out of.

I slammed Mums poor old Datto into reverse and did the quickest manouvre you ever saw.
The gearbox whined, Sis crouched in the back seat with her hands over her head, my heart raced and my adrenaline rushed and I got back into that lane just in time to see the starting grid pass the lane.

Phew.

My long suffering sister must have dozens of stories like that to tell about me. She's been innocently drawn into my dramas time after time. She's pushed my old jalopies when they break down. She's pushed them when she's sick. She's pushed them when I forgot to take the handbrake off.

Can't choose your relatives, eh?
Cheers babe.