I dropped my mum to the airport last night. Always emotional, and yesterday even more so because we were short of time and as it happened, petrol.
The petrol gauge was pointing below the last red line, and the traffic was building. Stop and miss the flight or keep going and run out and hold up lots of impatient travellers?
(I should point out that I had filled the tank the morning before we set off), but that MrM and I had to swap cars at the last minute!)
Anyway, my mum made her flight, I made it to the petrol station, but then a woman steadfastly refused for five minutes to let me into her lane to get into the entrance of said petrol station, so I had to do ANOTHER circuit of the airport loop, this time dripping with sweat...
I got home and found a note from my mum saying that she does not intend to return to the UK any time soon and to take all of her things to the charity shop.
So...Scope...take a bow. I took a load of mum's clothes, a funky red handbag and some brand new baby clothes, with tags into their Newbury branch this morning. My mum's clothes are of much higher quality than anyone else I know, so hopefully that should raise a few quid for this brilliant disability charity.