Enjoy this story Travelling Mishaps inspired by the song 405 by This Wild Life!
*Please note that this story has no relation to the COVID-19 virus and was written many years ago. This is simply a re-post and I DO NOT recommend travelling anytime soon. Stay home and take care of yourself and your loved ones. See this story as one of entertainment while you’re sitting at home relaxing and spending time with your family.
“WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE!” Amy ran downstairs into the kitchen.
John sat beside his son, Charles, sliding him a cookie under the table to go with his breakfast. “This is our secret, you got it?”
Charles nodded and watched his mother frantically pour her cereal in the bowl, letting pieces of wheat drop onto the counter. “Is that your yucky cereal?” Charles asked.
“It’s healthy, it has quinoa.” Amy dumped in the milk.
“Call it what you want,” John shrugged, “But our son’s right. It’s yucky.”
“Why aren’t you more concerned?” she slumped into a chair. “We have to leave for the airport soon. What are you doing?”
“Having a nice breakfast with my son,” he held up a glass of milk. “He’s pretty great, you should hang out with him sometime. Here’s to you, son.” He clinked his glass with Charles’ cup and they both took a big swig of milk.
“Well, finish up!”
“Oh! Haven’t told you about the dream I had last night.”
“Don’t care,” Amy said with her mouth full, “I’ve got a bullet for your dreams if you start droning on about it. I know how detailed they are.” Amy chugged the milk in her bowl and raced upstairs. “Don’t think I didn’t see you give him a cookie!” she yelled from the bedroom.
John went upstairs and leaned against the door frame, watching her jump into her jeans. “What’s your rush? You’re acting like its five minutes to midnight and we have to watch the ball drop on New Year’s.”
“Why haven’t you changed!?”
“Calm down,” he held up his hands, “We’re going to see your parents, not the Pope. If I could take an eraser to that plane ticket, I would.”
“You’re really going to start this again?” Amy pulled on her shirt, which ended up backwards. “Are you trying to make us miss our flight?”
“Want to help me out here, son?” John asked, feeling Amy’s anger surround him.
“You’re on your own,” Charles replied.
“He’s definitely your son,” Amy laughed, looking for her favourite pearl earrings on the messy dresser.
“You know, Amy,” John picked up a piece of paper with the flight information. “You’ve made some big mistakes in your life, but…”
“You better finish that sentence very carefully,” she said through gritted teeth.
“…But none as funny as this,” he held the paper in front of her, “The flight isn’t until 4:05 this afternoon. Coming back we take the 11:25. You’re getting ready too early.”
Amy snatched the paper from John and fell onto the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to see if you could figure it out,” John shrugged, then left the room before Amy killed him.
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