Again
The Halls of Pandemonium - Day 6
The Halls of Pandemonium - Day 6
Prompt: Write a story or poem about preparing for a journey. The story must end before the journey begins, but you may hint at what’s to come.
I’m taking part in the Halls of Pandemonium challenge, run by Bradley Ramsey and Lord Devereaux. I may not take part every day, like I did in Flash Fiction February, but I will have fun and see how I go!
The fact that I was trying to write this while it played out in real time probably says something about my current mental state! 😂
The same as last time, every like, comment and restack earns points towards the challenge, so if you enjoy what you read, please let me and others know!
And don’t forget to check out some of the other stories in the challenge!
They were running late. Again.
It had started so promising. He had come into her room before sunrise.
‘Mummy. Get. Up.’
She’d convinced him to have some more cuddles until it was light.
‘Playgroup!’
He was so excited.
‘Mummy. Let’s go!’
After a very circular conversation involving far too many uses of the word ‘why,’ she managed to convince him that playgroup wasn’t open yet. He wandered off and started playing.
She got them some breakfast, fed the pets, packed a lunchbox, put on a load of washing, had a shower and loaded the car with the errands for the day.
He crashed cars down the hallway, pausing to have bites of cereal and point out the animals he could see on the TV.
She checked her watch. Plenty of time.
‘Okay mister, time to get ready for playgroup.’
She grabbed the TV remote.
‘No mummy, keep watching!’
She checked the progress bar. There were only a couple of minutes to go, so they finished the show. He helped turn off the TV.
‘Okay, playgroup.’ She stood up.
‘No. I stay here.’
Her shoulders slumped slightly. It’s going to be one of those mornings.
‘But you love playgroup. You get to play with toys and see your friends.’
After some more convincing, he agreed.
‘Yay! Playgroup,’ and ran out the door to the car.
‘No, we need to get ready first. Time for the toilet.’
After another tense negotiation, she convinced him to do a wee and flushed the toilet.
‘No. I flush it.’
She helped him climb onto the toilet seat and they flushed the toilet. Again.
Finally, he was dressed and they were ready to leave!
Except…after ten minutes of convincing him to go to the toilet, now she needed to go.
‘Wait right here.’
She returned from the bathroom.
‘Why did you take all your clothes off?’
She rounded up the clothes scattered around the house and dressed him. Again.
He ran to the bookshelf.
‘Story book!’
‘No, it’s time to go. Playgroup, remember?’
‘No. Story book.’
She glanced at her watch. ‘Okay, one story.’
Three to five stories later…
‘Okay we really need to get going.’
‘Jigsaw puzzle!’
‘No, playgroup remember? We are meeting your friends.’
He continued playing.
‘If we go now, you can have a chocolate milk.’
‘Yay! Chocolate milk.’
He ran to the car and she strapped him into his seat.
She heaved a big sigh of relief. Finally, they could leave.
She didn’t like resorting to bribery, but some days they just needed to get out of the door. Hopefully, he would be too busy playing to remember the chocolate milk.
They drove to the end of the driveway and she paused. She’d forgotten to grab the mail key.
She glanced between the street and the house a couple of times. She was so close! She shook her head and drove off. The mail could wait for another day.
Thank you for reading.
If you have any tips or tricks about getting out of the impenetrable fortress known as the front door, I would love to hear them!
Disclaimer: I sometimes use AI as a sounding board during edits, but all writing is my own.
Every like, comment, and restack helps me earn points in this challenge.
Thank you for supporting flash fiction and indie writers!
If you are reading this via email, the Substack app is the best way to interact with my stories 😊
My kids aren’t toddlers anymore but there is still a fair amount of bribery happening in my house. 🤣
I had flashbacks of negotiating with my kid 20 years ago. lol.