Back to the Bark Fire

It's 11:17pm. The kids are finally asleep, and the house has gone quiet after one of those days that starts normal and turns into a story.

It began well enough. I woke up feeling punch-drunk - a few nights of broken sleep from fire calls will do that - and after a slow start, we headed to the local Sainsbury's for the usual "we've run out of" bread and crisps. That plan lasted about ten minutes before my alerter went off again. I was out the door like Mo Farah off the blocks, at the station three minutes later, gasping like a goldfish out of water. Relief call. Back to the bark fire we go.

Normally that's not a problem, but I had plans that evening I'd have been in serious trouble for missing - Dinos in the Dark, and the kids had been talking about it for a week. My one objective for the rest of my shift: get home in time.

Between running the command unit, cleaning down equipment, and the usual teething problems with appliances, I made it back into town with nineteen minutes to spare. Just enough time to scrub the smell of fire off, get changed, and brush my teeth. Dinos, here we come.

Being a lifelong dinosaur fan myself, I spent the next four hours proving to my kids that I knew nearly every dinosaur in the building - except for the Euoplocephalus I mistook for an Ankylosaurus, which my wife was more than happy to correct me on. I also spent a good chunk of it in the soft play, dodging other people's children while trying to herd my own two, which is roughly as easy as herding a pair of feral cats.

Obligatory stop in the gift shop, then home. Long day. Great success - even if the workshop had to wait another evening.