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My wife and I attended a wedding ceremony some time ago.
I remember I felt my chest rise slightly when admiring glances were sent towards my car by multiple other ceremony participants as we pulled into the parking lot. Yup! My new I-Pace and I arrived in style. Oh, yes, and the wee wife. How could I forget…
Well seated just before the ceremony started my better half got a strange expression on her face and panic twitching in the neck region. "THE CAKE !!!" she franticly whispered in my ear.
The cake she baked for the occasion was in the back of the car! The car was parked in the middle of the first hint of solar heat we had on this side of Christmas!
The possebilities to move an already parked car on a day like this was minimal. Even less finding a place in the shade. You men in this forum will understand, for sure, who got the blame for there being a cake in the car, why it was parked where it was (although we were directed into place by a guy in yellow vest), the sun shining so hot, etc, etc.
It got really bad when I pulled out my phone!
I was surely not going to sit and "surf" during the wedding ceremony!
The elbow I got in the side of my chest by a woman with traumatic cake anxiety spoke for it self. Although I, discreetly, showed her I was going into the Jaguar app I was the biggest fool in the room because of this cake just then.
In to the app, "Climate", "Temperature Low", "Start". Did not done more than wait and hope for the best.
Restarted app once to the middle of a speech, again with a whack from her elbow in an already tender chest, since it clearly had stopped after 30 minutes.
After the ceremony, of course, my task was to rush over to the car to rescue the cake. She just had to find her God Child, take pictures, have pictures taken, greet, and do the things women do in places like this.
I found the car and the cake in best of hold.
There was no melting pot of chocolate cake in the trunk! The cleaning of the trunk I numerous times were predicted having to do through the female eye movements and hand gestures over the last hour was not happening.
When the wife, eventually, decided to set in for onward transportation to the venue I could proudly ascertain that all was well with her god given result of baking skills.
My pride and satisfaction of having saved the cake with the remote air condition did not get the whole of state, I felt it deserved. No excuse for hateful glares and tender ribs.
However, the man has since learned that a woman's concern for a cake overshadows everything in such circumstances. No "Thank you!" or "Good thinking!".
My "Knight in shining armuor"-feeling was brutally ripped apart as we got in the car and all she said was: "God! Its freezing in here!".
Thank you Jaguar for saving the cake.
Thank you Jaguar for reminding me what a lovely wife I have.
 
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