Bill stumbled into the lounge, leaning heavily against the back of the sofa for support.

‘I have to apologize to the kids for not taking them out for ice-cream…' he slurred – ‘I must say I'm sorry… you know…’

‘The kids are already asleep’ sighed Joanne, gently guiding the uncooperative Bill towards the bedroom. ‘Come now… I’ll help you get changed for bed… You can speak to the kids tomorrow…’

The following morning Joanne approached Bill’s side of the bed bright and early with a hot mug of black coffee.

‘Wake up Bill…’ barked Joanne. ‘We have to go and do our Saturday morning grocery shopping… and we have to go by mother’s as well…’

Bill forced himself to sit upright on the bed.

The weepy eyes of the two young children standing in the doorway left Bill feeling guilty – as guilty as a criminal on the run. Forced into this corner, he started to feel the pressure.

‘Oops... I've done it again’ he agonized.

With a strong case of the guiltees setting in, Bill was tempted to make a quick getaway. Once on the run, it's best to keep running…’ he figured. ‘Wasn't that the way the bad guys always did it in the movies…?’

He contemplated abdicating his responsibilities and sneaking out to the local pub for a quick drink – he was sure the household needed milk, or some other vital household item, from the local store.

‘Arthur’s sure to be hanging out there this time of the morning’ he figured, with the prospect of the pub growing that more appealing.

‘This darn hangover ain’t helping one bit…’ he mumbled.

Bill’s head was still spinning uncontrollably. And the pain…? If he snuck out… Maybe the pain will end…