Morning in a house that hit its straps in the '70s...

'Maaattt! Time to get up maaaate! Plenty to do today...'

Matt rolled over, his hand gently cupping what his mum still referred to as his 'meat and two'. He gave his scrotum a firm, open handed massage as he considered whether to heed his mother's call, or simply roll over and sleep for another hour or two. He checked the spherical radio clock next to his bed. A pair of underpants obscured his view of the first digit, but the second digit was a one, and the minute numbers showed three and one respectively. Eleven thirty one or one thirty one.

'My choice', he thought. He was independent like that.

Matt knew that he was in bed, and that yesterday he had been at a LAN-party, which meant that today was Wednesday, because Tuesday night was LAN night at John's. If it was Wednesday, and his mum was shouting at him, it meant that it was eleven thirty one. Wednesdays Patti drove Bert to taping at midday, and met the girls at Crows Nest until Bert had finished filming five episodes back to back.

Matt liked Wednesdays because he had the house to himself for the afternoon. He had a nightclub party to go to tonight. He would use the afternoon to chill out. Maybe watch a DVD. A DVD in the room that prominently featured a glamour shot of his father and k-shaped statuettes.

'Maaaattttyyyy. Gotta get up. I need you to move your car.'

'Shut up Mum! The keys are on the bloody table. You know that.'

Matt shouted at his mother most mornings. If he was honest with himself, which he was not inclined to be, he would have at least considered that living with his parents was not making him happy. Thoughts like that came to Matt only against his will. When his guard was down.

He massaged his scrotum again. He reached across to his clock and picked up the underpants that had up until now prevented him telling the time. He saw now that it was eleven fourty five. He arched his back and pulled up his faded black Rios. The elastic was still strong. That was why Matt kept them by the bed. The elastic made a satisfying snapping sound as he unhooked his thumbs from underneath the waistband.

He swung his legs off the bed, and padded downstairs to the kitchen.

'Hi Matty. Can you move the car now? Before your Froot Loops?'

'Where's Dad?' Matt grunted. He knew the answer, but asked anyway. He knew his father would be in the upstairs bathroom. He spent all his mornings there these days. Matt didn't know what he did in there, and he didn't care. He only asked his Mum because he knew she worried about his father's increasingly erratic behaviour, and Matt enjoyed calling attention to it.

Matt poured Froot Loops into a huge white bowl he refused to let his parents use. Some Froot Loops went on the floor, and Matt smiled as he felt one crunch under his feet. He slid a set of keys across the table to his mother and padded back upstairs to eat his Froot Loops in bed.