Extreme Breakfasts

We had barely made it to the kitchen when disaster struck, a disaster that could jeopardise our entire mission. Minky’s slippers had been loose all morning and as she stepped through the kitchen door, one came completely off. If the team had to escort her back upstairs so that she could receive proper outdoor shoe treatment, we would not have sufficient time to complete breakfast before the school run. The team, already exhausted from their treck across the rough and steep stair terrain, gathered round to give their support. “I didn’t want it to end like this,” wailed Minky. “I feel I’ve let you all down.”

I immediately called in the team mother who, after inspecting Minky’s feet, pronounced her fit to continue as far as the breakfast table. Grandpa, a local scout, went ahead to inspect the route. Hazards particular to this area included mousetraps, spoons with razor-sharp edges, and spiders. Uneven tiles made the terrain particularly hazardous. I knew these hazards only too well, having once tripped over the frayed edge of my dressing gown on a previous expedition. On that occasion I buried my nose in a plate of hot toast, which caused me considerable pain. I was obliged to wear my wife’s red dress in place of my dangerously frayed gown, a fact that might account for the recurring bouts of transvestism I have enjoyed ever since. Yes, I knew the dangers only too well.

Meanwhile, the film crew, apparently unaware of the peril they faced, were tucking in to coffee and eggs. They kept up their spirits with the rough and earthy banter of their kind. “You can’t make an omelette without breaking wind,” announced the sound monkey. “He who deals it squeals it,” said the camera urchin, to gales of caffeine-enhanced laughter. When would they learn to stay away from the local drugs? But my responsibility was to my team and I was determined at all costs to get them to the table before the end of the episode, although it would be more entertaining if one of them had to turn back. Which one should it be?

Still to come: Marcus forgets his geography book, Minky can’t find a seat for her imaginary friend, and I lose the car keys and blame it on my wife. There’s no breakfast because the film crew have eaten it all, and my team’s morale is at an all time low. I pretend I’ve seen a spider and my wife lets me wear her red dress. We learn that next week’s IP is to involve cold porridge and indigestion.

Minky moved cautiously forward, taking it one step at a…

I can’t take any more of this. I wonder if dinner’s ready yet? I’ll go and find out, but first I’ll check my kit. Compass, walking boots, flint and mackerel, Swiss army cheese, canoe, inflatable doll, spanner, red dress and spider. Yes, I think I can make it.