The Nice Man from the car fixer’s came to collect my little car on Friday. He thinks that it’ll cost around £750 to fix which means that there is every chance that the insurers will pay to repair it rather than write it off. Fingers crossed he’s right.
We have been left a courtesy car with “Name of Car Fixer” splashed all over it in big letters. So I won’t look a twat driving round in it at all, oh no. Fortunately (for me anyway) The Yorkshireman doesn’t know which end of himself to stick over the toilet today and so is off work. I therefore have the New Big Shiny Car.
Little’un is now obsessed with broken cars. “Daddy got new car. Daddy car broken. Man fix it. Mummy car broken. Mummy got new car.”
She sums it all up so eloquently.
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