Like the John McClane of the council estate
I bound shoeless
Over chuckles
Sopping mounds of moss
And wet paving stones

The backing up beep
My call to arms
Into colourful PJ bottoms I leap
Breakfast abandoned
In the name of avoiding
Spousal barbs

Unsure if the forward roll
Sped me up
Or slowed me down
Target reached
I careen down the walkway
Waving off neighbours
From my explosive package
(And the bin too)

Day saved
Bomb-mestic averted
I nod and wink
At the mother and child
On their way to school

I strip back to pants
Relax
Only to find
My cereal
A soggy slime
Grinning back at me
Harry Ellis style

Scott Cumming enjoys reading too much to consider himself a proper writer. He resides in Aberdeen with his partner and two sons. Catch up with all his misdemeanours on Twitter @tummidge