Earpods and sat navs that moo

It was only 7.30 and Joe was already having to fish me out of the wardrobe, where I’d been forced to take refuge.
How can a girl be expected cope when she has spilt a huge blob of foundation on her last clean top? How come my make up all seems to have come off my face by about 10.30 in the morning and yet no amount of scrubbing or swearing will make it come out of my top?
Sticking my head into the wardrobe and refusing to move seemed the only sensible solution and it took a considerable amount of coaxing to get me out. By this time we were late and I was wearing a top with holes in it.
The day passed in a blur of shorthand, media law, over priced college coffee and a news writing exam. A typical day in the life of a journalist-in-training. As we left the college, I revelled in the gloriousness of Friday afternoons – the whole weekend ahead of you, endless possibilities and Monday morning is a lifetime away.
And this Friday afternoon we were off back to Suffolk to do the dedicated-daughter-thing and see my parents. We had to check my fiesta (aka the Bethmobile) over first. Since her sojourn to Croatia this summer, she hasn’t quite been the same. And I think she’s angry at me for accidentally slamming the garage door on her bonnet this week... But all seemed well and we set off.
The time passed quickly, despite the fact that my mum has managed to set my sat nav to moo at me whenever I break the speed limit. Why did we let parents learn to use technology? I’ve resorted to making it moo in time to music by rhythmically accelerating.
Back home, my grandparents came round for dinner and on the subject of ipods (my dad just got one for his birthday) my grandma remarks that she can’t understand why they’re not called earpods. She’s got a point there.
I spent the evening considering my latest book idea: Grandmas say the funniest things.