Mother chases the emergency services

Returning from our sunset beach work-out (very Cali, I know) we find ourselves driving behind two fire trucks, being led by a police car. 

"Let's follow them! Come on, I'm going to follow them! What's going on, Darling?"

"... I couldn't say"

"In fact, Darling, it is simply my duty to follow them"

"What?"

"Well, you see, I need to check how efficient they really are. It's no good if they dawdle, is it?"

"I see."

So, unlike those who may be being chased by a police car, the police car is being chased by Mother. Along with the two fire engines. 

Clearly, things like this do not happen frequently. We used to be immune to anything like this (an overly-regular occurrence in Brighton) however, as we are literally speeding through the windy roads of an urbanization, Mother has a greedy, thrilled facial expression. Trying to keep up with the flashing lights and deafening sirens ahead, nearly knocking over residents, I am beginning to wish I had been more aggressive when trying to persuade Mother to just go home. Like everyone else. 

As we are blasting away, four strange-looking planes are circling above us along with an SOS helicopter. Luckily, this once, all the attention is focused directly on something other than Mother. As we approach the scene, there are a whole load more police cars with men surrounding the area. Naturally, Mother rolls down her window to make certain she has secured sufficient eye contact with the young ones.

Unfortunately, as Mother tries to inch closer, we are warned away. Not by the police (who probably wouldn't care who did what) but by three old men. Shirtless. Standing side by side in a garden with fedoras and a hosepipe in hand (for the gardenias, not the fire). They all signal to Mother that she ought to turn around (very weirdly, they all do the exact same hand motion in sync with each other). Another flashback to the Village of the Damned et al.

"I know! I know!" Mother retaliates, "Bloody hell, I know!" *flustering arms*

Reluctantly, Mother has to turn around and travel back. Slowly, mind. Almost as if the road were her red carpet. Basking in the glory of knowledge. Smugly smiling at all the passers-by who are not as equipped with the details as Mother is.

Actually, to be completely honest, neither Mother or I are any wiser. We didn't see very much. Even upon our arrival home (the next-door urbanization) the neighbours were out on their terraces, trying to work out what all the fuss was about. Helicopters still buzzing around.

It's probably a boring bush fire. 

xoxo