A Wild Holiday

Today I learned some things about my mum that I didn’t want or need to know. For starters, she is completely insane. Secondly, I should never get in a caravan with her. This summer, we’ve been driving around New South Wales in a caravan, enjoying the sights that Australia has to offer. I’ve really bonded with my little brother over this holiday. It’s been so much fun. At least, it was. Until mum got behind the wheel.

She’s been begging dad to let her drive every day for the last three weeks. Finally, he relented. From the wide grin on mum’s face, I knew that he’d made a huge mistake. By the way, I’m writing this blog post from a mechanic in the Forster area, just to give you an idea about where this is going.

After mum took the wheel, the first thing she decided to do was go off-road. Hill, tree, farmhouse couldn’t stop us. Mum drove through them all. She did doughnuts in a caravan while driving through Farmer Ernest’s paddock. She drove alongside a team of horses, racing them from one end of the field to another, then used the caravan to herd the cattle. Farmer Ernest might have been grateful, until she crashed right into his chicken coop. Before he could demand that we help gather the loose poultry, mum switched to reverse and backed right out of there. But that isn’t why we’re currently getting caravan repairs.

Oh, no, terrorising poor Farmer Ernest wasn’t good enough. She had to start driving through town like a drag racer, doing her best Thunder McKing impersonation, ripping up the asphalt in the local streets. She’s caused thousands of dollars in damage, and that’s just to the caravan alone! And it’s a rental! I don’t know how mum and dad are going to afford our Christmas and birthday presents this year, when they’ll be declaring bankruptcy within the fortnight. Mum says it was all a big joke and we should be laughing, but I’m starting to think she belongs in some sort of asylum.