The weekend proved costly. When Mrs M called on Friday afternoon to report clouds of steam pouring from the bonnet of the "hunk-of-junk" the bank account gasped for breath. One of the hazards of driving an older car is that when things go wrong there is a decision to be made each time: is it worth spending the money to fix it? this set of repairs will costs about 1/3 of the value of the car. The car was close to be donated as scrap to China's steel mills instead. Mrs M has caved in on her trenchant opposition to all things people-mover and the switch will be made some time soon.

Scanning the car ads is depressing for the family man. Great cars beckon at cheap, cheap prices. Convertibles and sport cars tease you with their immaculate conditions and full service histories. One's mind starts playing tricks. "Honey, we could cram the three kids in the bucket seats and still have room for a bag of shopping!" But alas reality takes hold and your gaze is drawn to those chick-magnets* of the family car. No one tells you these things when you have kids.

* _{in a repelling sense.}