The kids were getting more and more restless. No amount of preparation in the form of getting them to understand the need for patience and perseverance on the long trip home at Christmas made the slightest difference to their growing impatience and irritability.

Any threats to their wellbeing, like no Santa, Grandpa will be so disappointed in you for making mummy and daddy’s trip so difficult resulted in anything but more whinging from the back seat.

There was a long way to go and temperature was climbing towards 40C. Not pleasant for any of us.

A fancy-looking Mercedes zoomed past us, and my wife remarked that she bet they had air-conditioning. We could only dream of such a luxury.

We knew that not far down the road was a servo where cold drinks and ice cream could be bought. I hoped to reach that point on the trip before I totally lost my cool.

Each child had a demand of its own as we pulled into the parking area.

Toilet, fresh air, chips and a coke.

At this stage of the trip, all talk of healthy eating went out the window as each child had its respective wishes granted.

It was too hot to stay long, we back into the car we climbed and off we went.

As parents, most trips are about making it from A to B with as little fuss as possible.

The kids settled with their food and drink and away we went, me thinking there would now be some peace and quiet. And there was.

Until the fizzy cordial kicked in. The rowdy children I travelled with previously suddenly turned into raving lunatics and I realised too late that long trips and fizzy cordial were not a good mix.

I did my best to zone out, lick my ice cream and hope that they might eventually fall asleep or kill each other.

Grandpa’s was another four hours away, I crossed my fingers.

Written for: https://fivedotoh.com/2021/12/13/fandangos-flash-fiction-challenge-147/