How The Woodstock Dragon Saved Christmas

A little bit of Christmas fun from two years ago. There might be a sequel this year, you never know…

*

Up on the mountain near Woodstock’s dark cave

A few jumps to the left if you’re young and you’re brave

Is a lesser known place, a less obvious space

Where the odd buck or goat disappears without trace

 

Inside is a creature who’d give you a fright

His body is red and his eyes black as night

His snout shoots out smoke…

…and his roar is no joke

He’s Dai the Red Dragon (well known to Welsh folk)

Quiz Night: Shortbread Stories Day One

This was the first short story I ever submitted anywhere. People were very kind about it so I kept writing. It’s all their fault basically.

In case you are thinking the title is some sort of abstract reference to something completely different let me assure you this is about a quiz night. In a pub. With people. And pencils.

*

“It’s Bingo, I’m telling you. One hundred percent. No doubt.”

An uneasy silence fell across the table in the corner as three separate minds pondered this statement. The large man with the sand coloured beard who had delivered the surety remained oblivious to the ratcheting tension, contenting himself with a generous swig of Old Whatnot and a self-satisfied smirk.

“Bingo?”

Ruining the kids

I’m ruining my children’s lives.

Oh, don’t be alarmed. I do this most days.

Yesterday for example I yelled at my son for putting his feet on the table for the fifth time during an epic hour long supper challenge. This evening it was my daughters turn when I chose not to pick her up for the tenth time and instead abandoned her in the living room while I went to change into a fresh t-shirt. The one soaked from bath time was making me a little shivery but it’s no excuse.

Basically I am a bad parent.