“We’re not going to Slough now,” said my sister unintentionally harnessing her inner poet.

“The Mother’s decided she doesn’t want to look at the car I found there,” she added, flicking through yet another garage website in the search for a new vehicle to replace the vintage Jag which our very own Miss Daisy has been driving for decades.

“I’ve decided I need something smaller,” chipped in The Mother. “Most of the time it’s only me in it…except for when I drive you lot around or go out with my friends so I don’t need a big car.

“The only criteria is it has to be the right height because your car is too high so most of my friends struggle to haul themselves up into it,” she said looking at me.

“And your car is too low so they can’t lower themselves down,” she added nodding at my sister’s sporty model.

“Well I’m glad to see the Jag going because the passenger seat is so low by the time I get settled in I can’t reach the door to shut it,” I replied.

“Your Dad and I had that problem once when we’d both hurt our backs,” chuckled The Mother.

“We both managed to get onto the car, then I found I couldn’t stretch far enough to shut my door, so your Dad struggled back out of the car to help me, then when he finally got back in his side, he couldn’t reach his door. We ended up staying at home.”

“Probably for the best,” I replied wondering how they’d ever managed to raise us.

‘We’ll take you out again on the weekend to see what’s around,” said my sister, visibly bracing herself for the experience. “Now we know what you’re looking for it’ll be easier.”

“It’s not easier,” cried my sister several days later as they took a break on the garage tour of South Wales.

“We’ve found one she quite likes, but she’s not convinced it’s right…apparently I was too close to her when I sat in the passenger seat.”

Hours later my phone vibrated as a series of photos arrived from my sister.

“What do you think of this monster?” she asked. “The Mother won’t buy it unless you like it.”

“It looks lovely…but quite big!” I replied.

“Don’t ask,”said my sister. “We arrived at the garage and had a wander around and identified a few cars she thought she liked, so we nipped off to find a salesman and get the keys for them.

“When we got back she was sitting in this one and announced that she absolutely loved it.”

“Please say you like it because my nerves won’t take another day of car hunting. We have to find a branch of M&S for every test drive to make sure the car fits in their parking spaces!”

With an overwhelming sense of relief I happily gave my approval to the new addition to the motoring family.

“I really anguished about getting rid of my Jag because I loved it but this one is amazing,” announced The Mother pressing the button to push back the panoramic sun roof.

“I’ve always wanted a convertible!”

A week later The Mother has barely been in the house.

“I’m old and this cost a lot of money,” she announced setting off on another jaunt. “If I’m going to squander your inheritance I’ve got to get my money’s worth!”