It was Saturday afternoon, and Saturday afternoons were little George’s favourite time of the week. Dad was watching the football, George had pretended to watch with him and had tried to understand. He had ‘helped’ mum make the picnic and pack the basket. Every now and then mum would call into the living room,
“Mark, is that ‘thing’ nearly over yet?!“
“It’s 90 minutes long Elaine, same as always!” came the reply. George laughed as mum rolled her eyes and did that funny long breath thing. George didn’t mind that the match seemed to take ages – it meant longer time packing the basket and so he could get mum to put in more treats.
Once the match was over and he heard dad get his keys off the hall table, that was the signal to go. George helped mum bring the basket, blankets, flasks and football to the car, where dad was already waiting. He loved this, even the car ride to the park, where mum would roll down her window all the way and dad would blast the songs from the radio.
At the park George would play football (try to play football!) with dad while mum found a good spot for the picnic blanket. They’d eat their rolls, George scoffing his so he could get to the goodies sooner. Only on Saturdays, George could drink as much fizzy orange as he wanted. Mum had her own flask as well, while dad drank water or some of the orange. The only bad part was dad checking his phone the whole time. What was so good about a phone? He didn’t even have any good games on it.
They’d take the long way back to the car, George grabbing his parent’s hands and swinging from them, even though he was getting a bit too big for it. In the car, mum got to drink more of her juice, but George wasn’t allowed, and dad turned the radio up even louder.
Back at home, mum liked to have a nap while dad went for a walk, even though they’d just been to the park. So George would watch cartoons til near bedtime. When dad got home, he and mum would be silly and could never remember whose turn it was to put him to bed! He’d go wash his teeth while they tried to figure it out.
Tonight was dad’s turn so mum went to bed. George read the story while dad kept falling asleep and snoring. After a while of sleeping, George heard them talking again, outside his room. No wonder they were always so tired, staying up late and talking so loud!
When George woke up the next morning, he couldn’t watch cartoons because dad was asleep on the couch, so he got his breakfast himself in the kitchen. Mum came in after a while to get her coffee. She stood looking at dad for a while before she went back upstairs, talking to herself. She did that a lot these days. It was Sunday now. George didn’t like Sundays so much, because the grown ups were always so tired. Still, mum said things would be changing soon.
“Very soon,” she says, and she couldn’t wait for that. So maybe Sundays will be like Saturdays. Maybe.