I was filling up my Land Rover Defender ex–Army “just in case the Indonesians attack” vehicle with diesel at Caltex Bli Bli.

I know what you’re thinking, yes I do need to put a guarantor in place and a bank loan to actually fill the tank.

To do this and get the petrol cap on the right side I parked nose to nose with a little red Ford Focus.

The lady in that car patiently waited for me to finish, pay the account and get back in my car to leave.

She even reversed a little to allow me to pull past.

As our windows met she yelled “Hey Jamie, I read your column, make sure you tell the readers this week how courteous women drivers are!”

Well there you go, Doreen Fair. Thanks for reading.

Berserk banking
My mobile phone fritzed itself this week. Not only did I not have a phone but I lost ALL of my contact numbers.

As I needed to contact my bank, I made the mistake of contacting their call centre.

Each time I went through four or five prompts, finally getting an operator based in Bangalore, I suspect, for each time he put me through to my Maroochydore branch it disconnected and I had to start again.

Three times I did this. On the third time, it was the Indian receptionist in Bangalore that couldn’t understand me because I was sobbing.

I finally made it through to someone who was more abrasive than shark skin and with a personality somewhat similar to Germaine Greer at the wrong branch.

I was put through to my banking adviser ten minutes after closing only to find that she’d left for the day. The sad thing is I’m what they call a “Preferred” customer?

The Chinese meal
Each time I take my children to a restaurant I blindfold them, tie them to a stake, give them their last cigarette and remind them that “I want restaurant behaviour”.

With that done, I marched them all inside the Marcoola Chinese restaurant.

Jackson and Poppy ordered chicken and sweet corn soup and I ordered Moreton Bay bugs in black bean sauce.

Sixteen-year-old Stella has a habit of making the younger ones laugh.
Unfortunately she did this to Jackson while he was eating his soup.

I sat there aghast as he took a mouthful while sucking in oxygen to laugh at Stella’s performance.

He subsequently choked and, much to my horror, brought everything he had eaten back up, not through his mouth, but pouring out through both nostrils and back into his empty bowl.

I’m sorry if I’ve turned you off your Saturday morning breakfast.

Camouflage
While talking about 11-year-old Jackson, I should tell you that he is besotted with anything that has to do with the Army and wants to make a living in the future as a professional sniper. He has progressed on from his desire to be a fire ant guy because…… “you get to ride a quad”.

I took him to the Nambour Army Disposals Store and bought him a sniper's hood that not only covered his face with jungle green gauze but had little plastic replica plants that you might find in a rainforest covering his head and shoulders.

He was so keen he put it on in the store. The moment he had donned the garment I yelled out at the top of my voice “Jackson, where are you, I can’t see you, call out so I know where you are!” and believe it or not from deep within the freshly bought sniper's camouflage a little voice said “I’m right in front of you Dad".

Nature calls
While driving in the Mary Valley the other night I was tapped on the shoulder by the wee wee fairy, I started to fidget and tap my leg and do all those things you do when you need to go.

Luckily as I turned right from Skyring Creek Road into Tuchekoi Road I spotted a clearing which I immediately pulled into and leapt out on the road to ease my discomfort.

Oh, the first few moments were heaven, I actually wondered why I hadn’t stopped 10km earlier.

That was until I looked down in the darkness to see the silhouette of a six-foot black snake extracting the last few beads of heat from the bitumen.

Needless to say I was behind the wheel and mobile again in seconds.

That’s the last time I’ll ever stop for a snake’s hiss.