My father came up the back stairs one day, many years ago, his glasses twisted so they barely sat on his face. There was a tell-tale cut across the bridge of his nose. He looked like the boy from the Band Aid add, who’d skinned his knee and was coming home to clean up. He was somewhat out of breath at the top of the stairs, after all he was well past middle age, but still built like a wiry blacksmith. If I wanted the details, I’d have to conspire, so I asked him what he’d been up to.

From what he said and my knowledge of his personal style from past experience, here is what probably happened.

Driving along in his 1962 Chrysler Valiant station wagon he saw a chap on a motorbike (the scourge of the earth) daring to enter the same roundabout he was approaching.

Given that my Father had no great interest in  road rules generally and, in particular, any that didn’t suit him, there was a near miss which sent the motorcycle rider flying off his bike. The man got up and approached the car. Let’s call him Giovanni. This action is likely Giovanni’s first mistake as my Father was simply waiting for him to pick up his motorcycle and get out his way so he could keep driving.

Giovanni: Hey you respectable elder citizen with significant driving experience. You seem to have nearly killed me. Would you like an opportunity for comment on that assertion?

Kev: I’ll give you, you person of likely Italian ethnic origin, an opportunity to just leave before I feel it necessary to help you remove your motorcycle from my intended path of travel, by crushing it under the wheels of my car.

Giovanni: Perhaps it is your eyesight which has caused you not to see that I was on the roundabout and therefore had right of way. Perhaps it would help you understand if I punched you in the face through the open window of your very valuable car. (Giovanni’s second mistake, as Kev was just warming up)

Kev: Good fellow, I would hate you to singlehandedly expend such energy to travel in my direction,  so allow me to assist with the further movement of your person into my car by grabbing your proffered fist and arm and continuing your ingress except for your face which will be improved by repeated contact with the outside of the surround of my car window. Don’t worry, it’s quite solid in construction.

Giovanni: Actually your eyesight is quite good. You really don’t need these glasses which I will now stomp into the road surface under my feet, just for the exercise and so you are not troubled by disposing of them. (Mistake number 3)

Kev: (alighting from the vehicle) You know some exercise would be good for me too. You must be careful to buy only top quality motorcycle helmets. In fact I have dire concerns for your welfare if you continue to wear this one. It smashes into splinters on the gutter. You see, there’s nothing left but the chin guard now. You should hurry and go buy a better one.

Giovanni: (picking up his bike and getting out of there) You know, it is your mental state which has been the problem. If you will accept my advice, you would be appropriately housed in an asylum. Have a nice day.

So then we had a cup of tea and I agreed not to tell Mother. Kev had been a bad boy.