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Peter Rook: Memoirs of a MADman*
I’d be a lousy boxer. I’m not given to acts of sporadic violence so I would find it very hard to hit someone who hadn’t done anything to me. That’s the bit about boxing I could never get my head round.
Surely you have to be slightly psychotic to get in the ring in the first place, let alone lay into someone who has not laid a finger on you, your family or your friends.
I’d happily make an exception for Gordon Ramsay and Piers Morgan, though.
This is all by way of a rather lengthy preamble about Tom’s dad and why I’d like to punch Tom’s dad in the kisser – even though I’ve never actually met him.
Let me make this clear (since I don’t want various Toms arriving at my door in the dead of night threatening to get the first blow in), Tom’s dad is an amalgam of other people’s dads and mums who do things differently from me when it come to parenting.
And I’d really like to punch ‘Tom’s dad’ for not only being wealthier than me, but flaunting it so shamelessly.
My lot moan about ‘Tom’s dad’, who drives a ridiculously expensive convertible something or other (you can see I know a lot about cars).
“Don’t you know it’s a compensation for a tiny mind and an even tinier appendage,” I tell my boys, and then I apologise for being late because I was busy “beating off women who swarm my babe magnet”.
They don’t laugh.
I did once cave into their requests to choose a car for me – a mistake I shall not make again.
I ended up unwittingly buying one with the slogan “Dancing with the Devil” emblazoned across the bottom of the number plate. I kid you not.
I didn’t know it said this until I had already successfully won the eBay bid.
If a car is supposed to say something about a person, my cars generally say, “I don’t care a great deal about cars”.
My bright red Ford Mondeo Zetec essentially said, “I’m going through a mid-life crisis and I no longer know who I am.”
I looked like some middle-aged wannabe pimp with my tinted rear windows and number plate that was crying out for a key down the side panels.
Mercifully it died a death recently, sparing more blushes in the process.
Once again I have returned to investing in one of my trademark good little runners which induces embarrassed groans and howls of derision every time I pick my boys up.
I point out that as an unpaid chauffeur I am exercising my right to turn up with the embarrassing old banger (and I don’t mean the ex-mother-in-law).
*Middle Aged & Divorced
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Weather for Peterborough
Saturday 26 May 2012
Today
Sunny
Temperature: 11 C to 23 C
Wind Speed: 18 mph
Wind direction: East
Tomorrow
Sunny
Temperature: 11 C to 23 C
Wind Speed: 16 mph
Wind direction: East
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