The Pay-Off
When you’re running late to get out of the house and you’re already in the middle of child-induced battle number twelve of the day, this time over how it is absolutely vital that these ten, no ELEVEN things (including a toy frog, a pirate eyepatch, a piece of plastic rubbish, a cup full of toothpaste, a licked-but-not-eaten piece of toast and more) come along in the car on the way to school with you and you just KNOW that when you get there, the argument will begin all over again because there’s no possible way that a kid can survive a day at school without any one of these items, let alone all
ten ELEVEN of them and you’re mentally screaming “Why, why, why did I sign up for this and why can’t they just be sensible, rational human beings … only smaller and cuter?!” and the dull ache of bruises on your shins remind you of the collateral damage you took from the frenzied storm of kicking and thrashing incited by the peace keeping operation you carried out earlier so that they didn’t claw each other’s eyes out, you need close your eyes for a second and remember the moments like this.
The Pay-Off
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