Pizza and a Fat Cranky Wombat

 

As Mr Smarts is a fast food Nazi, he’s been known to barf over a simple meal of fish and chips, we almost fell to the floor when he suggested we go out for pizza for dinner.  Of course there was a catch, we had to ride to the pizza place which was a 36.6 km round trip on the rail trail.

Now normally this wouldn’t be a problem but for some reason I couldn’t get myself motivated. As much as I tried I simply could not get myself into the zone.  So I lagged behind wishing I’d stayed behind as they all raced ahead.  Mr Smarts did attempt a pep talk but fled when he glimpsed my scary death stare.  So left to my own devices I plodded along until something extraordinary happened.

“Well hello there,” a fellow rider greeted me as he rode past.

“Hello,” I replied uncertainly as I puzzled over his admiring glance.

“Looking great there love,” another said as his wife hissed something nasty to him.  He ignored her and grinned at me.

Feeling rather confused at the attention I was receiving I almost fell of my bike when a pack of riders in their tight lycra pants and professional looking bikes asked me to meet them at the pub for a beer.

“Could it be possible?” I dared ask myself.  “That men without missing teeth and flies buzzing around their arm pits still found me attractive?” Yes it was, I decided, delighted with myself as another man rode past giving me a long, low whistle as he did so.

With new found vigour I rode smiling and greeting my many admirers as though I was Brigitte Bardot reincarnated to where my family were waiting for me.  Mr Smart’s mouth dropped open when he saw me.

“Ah Kooky,” he said uncertainly before Kate interrupted him.

“Oh My God Mum!” she said disgustedly.  “Put them away!”

“Put what away?” I asked astonished.

“Seriously Mum!” Will exclaimed as he averted his eyes.

“Those!” Pippa hissed pointing to my chest.

“What are you talking…… oh,” I said looking down at my nipples which were poking through my sheer tank. Somehow, someway they had escaped from my bra and were out and proud for everyone to see. They had been getting all the attention, not me.

Deflated I pushed them back into my bra and ordered a bottle of red but remembered drunk riding is against the law so instead I had to settle on soda water instead.  Could this night get any worse? Of course it could and of course it did.

On the ride home I was attacked by a wombat. Yes you read correctly.  A fat, cranky wombat attacked me.  It dashed out from behind a tree giving me the fright of my life.  Then, annoyed at finding me blocking its path it gnashed its teeth at my ankles demanding that I stop.  But I wasn’t stopping for anyone so it ran along beside me. I pumped my legs as fast as I could and rode past my dismayed family, into a swarm of tiny bugs which nearly choked me to death as they flew into my mouth and up my nostrils.

I narrowly avoided riding over the cute little bunnies which were hopping along in front of me by crashing into a bush where I flew spectacularly over my handle bars landing on my back.  The kids were very impressed.

Mr Smarts had to dink me home on his handlebars because my poor bike needed a rest after all it had been through.   Unfortunately I nearly caused another crash when I felt something gnawing on my skull.  Sadly the culprit, a spider came to a sad end when I accidentally on purpose squashed it while pulling it out of my hair.

Obviously feeling sorry for me two owls serenaded me later that night as I tried to sleep.  But really was it necessary to hoot all night.  No it most definitely was not!