Light at the End of the Tunnel

Note to self: No more peas for dinner when Ollie’s friends join us. Who knew peas make irresistible ammunition? Between them, they’ve eaten fewer peas than they’ve shot across the table – and I’ve served them with ketchup.

Jack has been picked up, but Leo’s mum texted – she’s stuck in traffic after picking up Belle from ballet. The good news is, Ollie’s tired himself out. Bedtime might not turn into a struggle for a change.

Keep going, Em. You’re almost through the tunnel, and at the end, there’s a light: a glass of Shiraz and extra dark chocolate.

Just keep going.

(Inspired by this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt, in case you’re wondering.)

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14 thoughts on “Light at the End of the Tunnel

  1. My husband calls it ‘the kill zone’ – the escaped food around a chil’d plate/ on the floor when they’ve finished eating. There’s nothing worse than standing in a pea you’ve missed when you cleared up either – especially if you have bare feet at the time 🙂
    Great story – as always

    Liked by 2 people

      1. Crunchy bread – the worst culprit. Along with peas and spaghetti. I’d like to say it gets better my son’s about to start secondary school and he still has to be told to use cutler rather than his fingers. It’s a long, long road 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

          1. I do know what you mean, though I have a horrible, snobbish fear that my son will be the ape sitting at another parent’s dining table, scoffing baked beans with his fingers – Urgh!

            Liked by 1 person

  2. Had many days like that and now I don’t I kind of miss them. Bring on the grandchildren!
    (Mind you as a teacher that first best glass of wine of the long summer holiday is on the horizon.)
    Lovely piece.

    Liked by 1 person

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