Passed!

Oh joy, oh jubilation. The Car has passed its NCT (road worthiness certificate).
Forget about the anxiety for Luca's future Leaving Certificate results, and our visions of a brilliant academic career ahead of him (either in dinosaurs' cross-breeding or Great White sharks' dentistry).
Forget about Mimi's Debutantes' Ball and our repeated attempts at marrying her into wealth and respectability.

The good old Volvo has passed its NCT.

The anxiety level in the waiting room is unbearable. Worried parents, powerless behind the big window, watch their beloved vehicle being scrutinised and poked and pushed to the limits.
Beads of sweat appear on worried foreheads, nails are being gnawed as persecutors in green boiler suits violate John Joe's last heaven of piece, tranquillity and fiercely defended plot of personal space: his 2002 bull-bar protected Mitsubishi Warrior pick-up truck.

The feeling of rejection and public shame is unbearable to witness on the devastated faces of those whose beloved car failed the NCT.

Those who have just been awarded the coveted Green Certificate walk out with a spring in their step, denying straight away that they ever doubted their champion's ability to deliver the goods. They cast an unsympathetic and sometimes downright condescending glance at those who struggle to keep the tears in as their 1998 Micra did not quite cut the mustard in the Suspension Handicap.

I can breathe a big sigh of relief now and forget about it for the next two years.

The Car is getting a Premium Deluxe wash this evening, with Power Drying AND Hot Wax, as a treat for being such a reliable old lady.