This post is sponsored, but all stories and views are my own. Please visit my disclosure page for more information.
I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t used to bother getting my car serviced regularly.
It’s one of those things that very easily ends up at the bottom of the ‘to-do’ list. Which is all well and good, until your car breaks down in the middle of the M25 with a baby in the back. Thankfully, this hasn’t happened to me yet, but it could well have.
You see, I have what one would describe as an ‘old banger’. It’s actually quite an attractive Peugot 307, but it’s a good 15 years old and covered in scratches from fights I’ve picked with walls and lampposts. I also have family across the UK, meaning that the old banger needs to get me from the Midlands to various coastlines on a regular basis.
My big mistake
I changed my mind on servicing around this time last year.
It was the first few weeks of my pregnancy and I was living apart from my husband while we transitioned our life to the Midlands. I had got an early job offer, but we were waiting to sell our flat in Brighton. Living with my parents during the week, I’d drive down South every Friday evening to spend the weekend with him.
In a car that hadn’t been serviced in longer than I’d like to admit.
On one particular drive down, I noticed that I was having trouble staying in the lane I was driving in. As in, I literally had to grip the wheel and force my car to remain in a straight line. Stupidly, I chalked it up to first trimester tiredness and ignored the problem over the weekend. I’m not sure why I considered struggling to keep a car on the road normal, but that’s baby-brain for you.
The exact same issue was repeated the following weekend, as I spent my Friday evening enjoying the sights of the M25. I finally admitted to my husband that there might be a problem. He was furious – as he probably had every right to be.
Getting the car serviced
That weekend, we finally booked a service, hoping they’d fix the problem.
Many hours later, we received a call from a dumbfounded garage asking if I really had been driving the distances we’d mentioned. It turns out, there were more problems with the damn car than I can remember. It actually cost us more than the car is worth (but I love my car) to fix.
We were told that I was playing a pretty risky game avoiding a car service (yeah, I’m an idiot, I know) – which was made all the worse considering I was pregnant.
I honestly learned my lesson that day. I will never put myself or my family in danger again. It might have cobwebs on the to-do list, but getting a service is part of owning a car.
And of course, if you ever feel like you’re struggling to keep your car on the road, for heaven’s sake get it checked out!
If you happen to be travelling the same way as we do to visit family, then book your car servicing in Wakefield with Ossetttyrehouse.co.uk.
The Tale of Mummyhood