A ride trip releases the parenting pressure and brings new perspective to daily life for Anders Engberg.

WORDS & ILLUSTRATIONS ANDERS ENGBERG

In a mass of debris, a post-apocalyptic landscape appears.

I move between islands of discarded clothes only pausing to investigate the origin of the pain in my bare feet. My examination is suddenly interrupted by two different noises. The first one comes from my eldest daughter running through our house wearing only the slaughtered remains of dinner, trying her best to imitate a dying police siren. The second one is from my phone reminding me to put in extra hours at work to cover a disastrous staff situation.

I decide to adopt my daughter’s go-to strategy and just throw myself to the floor and scream ‘NO NO NO I DON’T WANT TO!’

I get as far as my knees when the adult world reminds me that the pasta is overcooking on the stove. As much as I want to throw a tantrum, it will most likely be overshadowed by a kitchen fire.

Apparently this world is my home, on a very ordinary weekday in a daily grind that’s moving completely backwards. I step on another piece of Lego on my way to the overcooked pasta when my girlfriend catches the look in my eyes. She pauses her rocking of our youngest to counter the oncoming psychological breakdown. I’m losing it. Wise from previous encounters with my meltdowns, my girlfriend is quick to make the first move. She swiftly counters with the suggestion that I might go on a short bike trip with some friends. She knows that this will distract the dark side long enough for the rational part of my brain to mobilise.

Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, I freeze, unable to move as neurons and synapses battle it out. Finally my brain exits disaster mode and my mouth makes a high pitched sound going ‘Aah…’ You know what, that might actually be a great idea…

If this creature appears in your rearview mirror-show mercy...