A Sobering Tale


“DAAAAAAAD!” came the scream from the kitchen.

It might have been Miss8. It might have been Master10. It’s hard to tell when their voices hit those high notes.

“Dad!! She’s drinking your beer!”

Have you ever noticed the things you want kept on the low down are the things your kids tend to scream at the top of their lungs? Meanwhile, things like, ‘you’re the best Dad in the whole world’ are whispered at bedtime while your wife’s in the shower.

Now I confess, when things are going wrong around this house I tend to be a tad slow moving, but when I hear my three year old has got her hands on my beer – well, that stuff isn’t cheap.

And you know who else moves fast when the scenario of a pre-prep sucking down an ale comes into play?

“Bruce!” screamed my wife. She’d raced into the kitchen and spotted Miss3 with her head tilted back, guzzling a can of my sanity potion.


Now I don’t want you to get the wrong impression here, but my first thought was, ‘Oh shit. Tracey is going to ban me from ever bringing beer into the house again’. You might think this is a little selfish of me but consider I drink for the well being of my kids.  It makes their chaos more amusing.

I snatched the can off Miss3 and brought it up to my nose.

I sniffed.


“It’s okay,” I told my family – by now the entire household had gathered in the kitchen. “There was no beer in it. I think she filled it with water.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” said Tracey.

A smart man would have left it there.

“She must have pulled it out of the bin and filled it in the bathroom,” I continued.


“…the bin…?” said Tracey weakly.

So, long story short, I think I’ll be enjoying cups of tea after work until this whole thing blows over.

At least until the kids go to bed.

“Raising a family on little more than laughs”

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