It’s the same every Friday, I put the oats and milk in the pan and turn up the heat for an initial blast. Then comes inevitable distraction before I suddenly rush back to stir the bubbling, angry porridge cauldron and pour it out, piping hot, into bowls for the children, hoping the burnt-on layer isn’t as bad as the last time. It’s worse. And yet the …
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to GORSE to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.