A Launch Delayed

Today is the day I will finish correcting the proof of my latest book. So that I am not disturbed during the day, my mother has taken it upon herself to take my car to be serviced. However, she soon returned to the house to announce, "Your car won't start for me."

"The it probably won't start for me either."

"But you drive it, so you probably do something automatically without thinking that I don't know about."

The battery had been put back in my car a couple of days earlier after being up on blocks for three years. I pointed this out as I rose from my desk. "I'll see what I can do." I got into the car and I turned the ignition key; my car started right up.

"What did you do?"

"I turned the key."

"So did I."

"Perhaps not enough."

I returned to my room to resume work. My mother was back a few minutes later. "I can't release the hand brake."

"This is like 'Fawlty Towers.' Shall I beat the car with a shrub?"

"That's it! Put a bit of stick about!" That was from a different BBC series entirely. I marched out to my car once again.

"Have you made any progress on your book today?"

"Not in the last fifteen minutes!"

I seated myself in my car and released the hand brake.

"How did you do that?"

"I pushed the button."

"So did I."

"Perhaps not enough."

Leaving nothing to chance, I patiently remained outside to watch my mother slowly back my car our of its parking space and eventually drive away. It was now 8:25am. Whatever the rest of the day may have in store fills me with breathless anticipation.

She isn't even from Barcelona.

"¿Qué?"