scooter

I was watching The Interpreter last night and I was fascinated by the yellow scooter that Nicole Kidman rode in some of the scenes. My father used to have this Kawasaki scooter when I was still little. It had a wide platform at the front where I would stand while my father gave me a ride. I ‘d hold on to the handle and I remember how thrilling it was to ride that scooter, the wind blowing my hair, and my father driving it.

My father rode his scooter one night to go to a friend’s house in the next town. He must have been invited to drink and then drove himself afterwards. He didn’t come home that night. My mother was so worried. She went to that town looking by the roadside to watch out for his scooter. She spotted it in a ditch. She went to the nearest hospital and found my father there. Luckily, he wasn’t badly hurt.

This is the reason why I get so upset when my husband goes out drinking with his friends. Then he drives himself home or one of his friends who had also been drinking will drive him. You aren’t thinking straight when you’ve had even a little to drink. What more if you’ve been drinking all night. Most of the time, he stays out until the wee hours of the morning and I won’t know where he is. He leaves the house without telling me where he’s going because he knows I don’t approve of it. I always tell him that if anything happens to him, I won’t even know where to look for him. I just hope that he’d realize soon that it’s not safe to drink and drive. Before anything bad happens.

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