I phoned my daughter and asked if I could take the baby. "Kill two birds with one stone," I thought.
"Get some much needed exercise and some quality time with the baby.
"Take my people carrier", said my daughter. "The car seat and buggy are in there anyway."
"Great," I thought. "Sorted."
"He's had his lunch. Just give him a sandwich and juice in an hour or so" says daughter.
Got to Strathclyde Park, parked up and put on my trainers. Put the baby into the buggy and headed off.
An hour and 15 minutes later and I'm back at the car. "I really enjoyed that," I thought. "Very relaxing. I must do it more often."
The baby was great.
He just sat and watched as I changed back into my shoes. We had a quick drink and I thought we should head for home.
I lifted him out of the buggy and into the car seat. Not as easy as it looks, but after a bit of a struggle he was secure.
I emptied the buggy and tried to fold it down, but no matter how I tried, the damned thing wouldn't collapse.
The baby started crying. I gave him a dummy. I tried another catch. The buggy wouldn't budge.
Next thing the dummy came flying out of the car.
A car pulled up beside me hoping to get my space.
I rummaged in the bag and found another dummy. Baby stopped crying.
I tried every catch, button, and lever on the damned buggy- but nothing. It wouldn't collapse. Baby started crying again. I was getting hotter and losing patience.
Driver peeped the horn to get my space. Buggy wouldn't budge.
I pretended I had just arrived and waved the driver on. Baby was screaming.
Buggy wouldn't collapse. Another car arrived for my space.
I pretended I was chatting on my mobile to give me time to think and eventually the driver gave up and drove off.
Baby still unhappy. I started singing to the baby which only made him worse. Another car pulled up and put the hazards on and I thought, "Right, enough is enough! There's only so long I can stand here looking an idiot. I'll have to abandon the buggy."
Then I thought of the consequences of going home without it.
My daughter would kill me. So I somehow lifted the fully erect buggy - note no helpful drivers appeared to assist at this point - and squeezed and turned it in all directions until I finally managed to cram it in the back seat next to the baby.
I slammed the door and it was in.
The baby started spinning the wheels of the buggy and stopped crying.
By now the sweat was pouring off me and I just wanted to get home.
I had just started driving when a man walking a dog waved at me. I waved back.
I drove onto the road in the park when a car flashed its lights at me.
I thought it was someone else I knew. So I flashed back.
Baby's still happily playing with the buggy wheels. I was relieved to be almost out of the park when I drove over one of the speed bumps.
Next thing, a trainer rolled down my windscreen! Oh no!
I got out and looked under the car and there was a squashed trainer. It was mine … and the other one was still on the roof.
I was mortified.
I picked them up, threw them on to the passenger seat and drove off.
By now I was rather stressed and prayed no-one I knew had seen me.
I opened the window for air and then remembered I hadn't fed the baby.
Before long I spotted a burger van. I got out and asked the assistant to make up a sandwich for the baby.
Knowing he had an audience he said: "Certainly hen. I see you had a bit of bother with the buggy then?"
The queue started laughing at the way the buggy was still up and crammed into the car.
"Yes, I did. But at least I took the baby out first."
I was failing to see the humour of the situation.
I pulled up outside my daughter's house and she came rushing out to greet us.
She stared into the car.
Baby, sandwich in one hand and the other spinning the dirty buggy wheels.
Squashed muddy trainer on the passenger seat.
Before she could utter a word I said: "Baby is fine, buggy is back in one piece … and I need to go lie down."