The return of Z (briefly)
We’re driving home from running about in the “safe” environment of the gymnasium. Safe apart from when other children run into you or try to bite you I suppose. Sprog is safely ensconced in the car seat with a drink and biscuit. More biscuits are demanded. As I’m sat at the lights I oblige, hurling an alphabet biscuit into the back of the car just as the lights change. Suddenly there is an exclamation from the back seat…
“All gone??!!” comes a quavery voice from the back. I pull away, unable to really do anything except drive and try to soothe what I sense will be a crescendo by the time I reach the slip road after the next light. More exclamations and rising panic from the back seat. The lights are red, thank goodness, I prepare to hurl another biscuit over the headrest but before I can react there is more anguished complaining.
“Zzzz!” Oh. I realise now. I have picked a biscuit with the dreaded zed on it… the lights will change any second, no more lights before here and home so no chance to stop, just the 331.
“Give me the biscuit!” I urge, straining to reach round and take it from his hand… “give it to Mummy!?” Sprog stares back, eyes welling. The lights turn amber, I’m at the front of the queue… I wrench back into my seat, snick into first and accelerate away… There’s no way I can get the biscuit while doing 60 down the slip road. More anguish from the back… suddenly a brainwave.
“Put it in your mouth,” I yell over my shoulder “then it will be all gone…”
Sprog quietens, obliges and off we hurtle down the slip road and home wards… crisis averted.
