We spent Christmas Day at our son's so, naturally, ordered a taxi home so that all could eat, drink and be merry. And we did and we were.
The taxi, when it came, was enormous. It had a little platform step up and a grab rail at the side of the door.
I was working out how to grab it (It was right at the limit of my reach) when Mr. SW, helpfully :? , said “Get hold of the rail.”
“I'm trying to.”
With a lurch upward, I got hold of the rail and began to work out how to get a foot on the extremely narrow platform so that it would stay on. Sideways seemed to be the best option.
“Put your foot on the platform” he said :roll:
“I KNOW. I'm trying to.”
With a pull on the grab rail and a hoist from him I got one foot up. The other was now dangling while I estimated what would happen next. In black cabs I have a tendency to crack my head on the top of the cab and fall sideways but I reckoned I had enough headroom in this one.
“Get your other foot up.” (
Now why hadn't I thought of that ? One really shouldn't murder one's spouse on Christmas Day)
I tried. And missed. I tried again.
“Your foot needs to go higher” my sister explained :idea: “You're just a bit short
” (I suppose one shouldn't murder one's sister either.)
“I KNOW WHAT TO DO. It's DOING IT that's the difficult bit.”
The driver, bless him, waited patiently and kindly offered no suggestions. Eventually I got my other foot on the platform and immediately, before I had time to skid off again, put one foot in the car, swivelled on it and threw myself, hopefully, towards the seat. (Do not attempt this without the assistance of alcohol, children.)
I made it. The others got in in a more orthodox fashion (I resisted the temptation to instruct them on how to go about it), the lovely man drove us home and Mr SW promptly fell soundly and contentedly asleep in front of Dr Who.
Everyone survived. Success
“There is always a well-known solution to every human problem - neat, plausible, and wrong.” H.L. Mencken