Emergency situation

I'm not talking about Finn, who had to have lip balm applied without delay, there and then (it's a good thing that Mimi always carries some emergency supplies in her fishy bag...)

No the real emergency were the last few words I heard Mrs Raheny speak as I made a hasty exit to take the kids out for some fresh air.
Something to do with the shed. And the attic. And the recycling center.

It's never good to hear the three mentioned in the same sentence.
Especially the recycling center. I absolutely hate the shaggin place. EUR30 for the privilege of seeing three morons having a laugh and a cigarette, one elbow casually resting on the side of the obsolete Trinitrons skip, while you burst your arse extracting 3 tons worth of broken tricycles and plastic trucks from the boot of your car.
These three elite members of the council are no doubt (inbred) cousins of the guys who run the Ballymore Eustace Water Treatment Plant in Co Kildare.

I tried to make the morning outing with the kids as long as possible in the hope that she would forget about her nefarious plan.

We went to see the seals at the Ice Box (Finn couldn't remember ever seeing one from up close) and walked all the way to the Martello tower at Seapoint.

And spent ages playing with a dead dogfish and a dead octopus on the way back.

I even considered threatening her by text message to recommission the nose ring that I thought looked cool on me 23 years ago (even back then I was the only one...)

When we got back home, I could not get in.

The front door was partially blocked by an old futon mattress and that shite Epson printer that broke two weeks outside of the guarantee period seven years ago.

I was doomed.