The Pot Noodle Disaster

Matt prefers a Pot Noodle to a sandwich - if they’re good enough for my hero Roger Black, they’re good enough for the boy - and as he gets older he wants to do things for himself, which is understandable. So he’s put the kettle on, taken the sauce sachet out, fork at the ready and tells me he knows what he’s doing. I didn’t exactly leave him to it but by the time I wandered back in the kitchen after hearing the click of the kettle, he’d already filled up the pot. So far so good you’d think, but he suffered this strange affliction that befell my friend when we were on holiday one year - she was watching the bottom of the wine bottle rather than the top of the wine glass and her cup runneth over somewhat - all over the table and us; red wine too! Hence my kitchen worktop had Pot Noodle for lunch instead of Matt. This after he’d already knocked half of it into the cutlery drawer when pulling the lid off. I’m not sure who was more unhappy, me at all the clearing up or him because he had to settle for a marmite sarnie.