The time me and my grandpa slipped off the highway into a seemingly endless ditch...

 One cold and bitter winter afternoon back in 2012, while me and my grandpa were anxiously driving home to meet my grandma in a frantic attempt to not miss her dinner, me in my toddler state of mind had to abruptly (and of course without hesitation) have the overwhelming urge to pee.

“Grandpa, I need to use the toilet!”, I said, holding it back anxiously

“No problem grandson, let me pull over.” my grandfather replied with his usual calm and collected tone.

 Slowly, our car came to a halt, and just as my grandpa shut off the engine, the front tires closely followed by the rear began to slide on the slanted and frosty grass straight down into a ditch. Quickly, my grandfather attempted to place the car in reverse but to no avail. We were stranded! Checking if the car was stable my grandfather burst out laughing as he inspected the car for any damage, yet other than the bit of professional landscaping we did with the sliding tires on the wet grass, everything was all right!

 A couple of minutes later, the reality set in for my grandpa, we needed a tow truck.

“Hello, is this the towing service?” my grandfather asked apprehensively, as we awaited the much-needed help.

“Yes, how can we help you today?” a thin female voice replied behind the phone.

“We’re stuck in a ditch on the motorway, and we can’t get out!” said my grandpa with a sense of self-disappointment in his tone.

“Is the vehicle damaged?” asked the thin voice again.

“No.” my grandpa replied without hesitation.

“Are you sure?” asked again and again the now almost annoyingly high-pitched voice.

“Yes, most definitely.” said my grandfather, again without the slightest hesitation in his voice.

 The call center woman, understandably confused by the circumstances of how the car was undamaged but in a ditch by the highway, dispatched one small tow truck to pull us out. Half an hour later, as the car slowly began to inch up the steep slope of the ditch, we realised the car was just sliding sideways, and one tow truck just wouldn’t cut it. Shivering in the cold Hungarian winter, we all got back in our cars as police cruisers arrived to block the freeway for the second tow truck. Quickly, my grandpa jumped out to help the operator hook up the car, while I got invited to sit in one of the police cruisers (An offer which I simply just couldn’t turn down as my 4-year-old self). Meanwhile I appreciated the radios in the police car and got to turn the lights on and off, our car was steadily raised back up onto the side skirts of the freeway. In a great hurry to get the fully blocked and stressed traffic honking in impatience back on their journey, the officer told me to jump back in my car as they collected the remaining roadblocks left behind.

 Excited about this new adventure I just had (and of course relieved from my calling by nature), me and my grandpa turned on the radio as we drove away into the frigid cover of the night, only to hear how we created a 3-kilometer-long traffic jam! Honoured by this reputable and great achievement of ours, we were greeted by my angry grandmother, who then scolded us to oblivion for being late to dinner (completely unaware of what had just happened to us).