The 6 Stages Of An After-School Apocalypse

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My child goes into school a perfectly reasonable 5-year-old. He comes out possessed by sugar-lust and rage. Behold the 5 stages of The After-School Apocalypse.

Stage 1: Mutation

Home time. The teacher opens the gate. In the space between the classroom door and my loving arms, my child morphs from an obedient people-pleaser into a explosive sugar-grenade.

‘Hello Darling. How was your day?’

*Child stares through me. Glazed expression. Arms outstretched.* ‘What treat do you have today?’

‘Errr…’ Cue palpitations and cold sweats. (Damn Jamie Oliver and his sugar guilt.) ‘A lovely crunchy apple, darling.’

Child throws himself on the playground; spit, limbs and poo-vocab flying. ‘You’re a poo-head. I want Chupa Chups!’

I fling various fructose-loaded Bear snacks in his direction as the other parents shield their child’s eyes.

Stage 2 Outbreak

The 5-year-old infects the 2-year-old. Both children are now rabid and on the hunt. Their appetite knows no end. How many yogurt raisins can 2 children inhale in one snort? Yup, I lost count too.

Stage 3: Evacuation

Time to make a run for it. This stage is time-sensitive. Yogurt raisins can only propel them so far. And when they crash? I’m facing carseat-plank if I’m driving or spaghetti-legs if I’m on foot – laden down with at least 2 scooters, 2 coats and 5 bags of crap daily essentials, natch.

Stage 4: Containment 

Home at last! Now the race to get the fish fingers on while the kids batten down the hatches with Paw Patrol.

Obvs, I remain alert for random escape attempts: in the final throes of a sugar high the 5-year-old has been known to initiate playdates with innocent neighbourhood children. Duck and cover people, for your own safety.

Stage 5: The Fall of Humanity 

We have a breach! The 5-year-old has invited a friend round. It’s only a matter of time before he too mutates and a full-scale apocalypse is unleashed. Call the authorities! Knock me over the head with a bottle of Pinot now. The world knows no fury like a bunch of 5-year-olds who’ve been sitting still during ‘carpet time’ and putting up their hands up before they speak for the last 6 hours.

Stage 6: Eerie silence

The space between kids tea and bedtime is blank. All I know is; Bad. Stuff. Went. Down.

Still, the kids are finally asleep. I’m in the ‘recovery position’ on the sofa, self-medicating with Pinot. Any attempts at conversation from the hubby are met with mute stares and post traumatic stress.

Thank God it’s Friday. No school tomorrow.

Oh shit. No school tomorrow. *Cries into Pinot and the post-apocalyptic wasteland of ‘The Weekend’*.

Mami 2 Five
And then the fun began...

9 thoughts

  1. He hee! Wow Jude, you’re good, apples and other healthy snacks after school? I caved to demands for crisps long ago! It is like feeding a tiger though, you chuck a steak through the bars while you nip in to the cage hoping that you’ve bought yourself enough time to get everyone home and tea on the go! Thanks so much for joining in with #thetruthabout today X 🙂
    Sam recently posted…The Truth about… #51My Profile

  2. Ha ha! This is a brilliant post. Very funny. Little Miss H is only two and a half so I don’t have to face this apocalypse at the moment. But I can sense and dread it coming. I will be referring back to this to make sure we all get out alive. Thanks for linking up to #SundaysStars. I am sorry that it has taken me so long to comment. Hugs Mrs H xxxx
    Mrs H recently posted…Getting through NovemberMy Profile

  3. Interesting that you are credit for the concept. My daughter learned about a study by using data from a similar exercise in a high school level but she didn’t care much for the concept either.

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