Spins and laughter: a pothole peril

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I remember one vivid occasion when my siblings, my mom, and I embarked on a journey to our maternal village, eager to participate in the joyous celebration of one of my aunties' weddings. Unfortunately, my dad couldn't join us due to work commitments. The vehicle of choice for our expedition was our trusty saloon car, with my mom confidently taking the driver's seat.

Upon our arrival at the village, the wedding unfolded as a resounding success, with an abundance of delectable food, refreshing drinks, and lively entertainment. The vibrant atmosphere left an indelible mark on our memories, creating an experience that we would cherish.

The following day marked our return journey, reminiscent of countless trips we had made to the village before. The soundtrack to our travels was often provided by my mom's collection of traditional music, setting the tone for the adventure ahead. Predictably, my sister found solace in the back seat, succumbing to the rhythmic lull of the car's movement, while my brother oscillated between gaming sessions and watching movies on his portable device.

As for me, I immersed myself in my own musical world, the melodies resonating through my earphones as I soaked in the scenery and the breeze streaming in through the open windows. Little did we know that this journey would deviate from the ordinary script.

The first noteworthy incident occurred not with us but within the confines of a bustling filling station. A heated altercation unfolded between a salesperson and a disgruntled taxi driver who felt shortchanged. We observed the spectacle with a mix of curiosity and amusement before resuming our journey.

The second episode, however, was a unique and unsettling experience that has stayed etched in my memory. Cruising along the highway, my sister now wide awake, my brother seeking respite from games through a movie, and me engrossed in my music, we approached a seemingly innocuous pothole. Unfortunately, my mom didn't spot it in time. The sudden attempt to evade the pothole resulted in an unexpected and terrifying spin.

Chaos ensued within the confines of our car. My sister, now alert, began to panic, uttering "Oh my god, oh my god," in a mix of fear and disbelief. My mom, desperately trying to regain control, exclaimed, "Jesus!!" My brother, usually composed, betrayed signs of unease, while I found myself frozen in the surreal moment of a car spinning out of control.

With remarkable composure, my mom eventually managed to steer the car back on course, prompting a collective sigh of relief. We pulled over to the side of the road, the tension lingering in the air. Even I, typically eager to resume the journey, found myself surprisingly anxious about what had just transpired.

After a few minutes of regaining composure, my mom meticulously inspected the car and its engine to ensure no hidden damage from the unexpected maneuver. Satisfied that everything was in order, we resumed our expedition, albeit with heightened awareness and a newfound respect for the unpredictability of the road.

Upon reaching home, my mom eagerly recounted our harrowing experience to my dad. She emphasized our luck in navigating the incident on an empty highway, devoid of other vehicles. True to his nature, my brother lightened the mood with jests about my mom's vocal expressions during the ordeal, prompting laughter that served as a cathartic release from the tension of the journey.

In the end, our adventure became a tale to be retold, a blend of the ordinary and the extraordinary that shaped our family lore. The unpredictability of that journey taught us to appreciate the uneventful moments and find humor in the unexpected twists that life on the road may bring.

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