There was an old lady with shit on her shoe, she had so many children, she didn't know what to do...
The following tale is true, but identities have been hidden to protect the innocent.
It had been a lovely day. The twins little nursery friend had been over for a visit, and the two mummies enjoyed a chat over coffee and cake while the children played happily together. In honour of the special occasion, Daddy's Lightsaber had been liberated from his study, much to the delight of the girls and their guest. After the guests' departure, the Mummy tried unsuccessfully to get her youngest child to nap and, upon giving up, opted for lunch instead. Twin 1, for some reason, insisted on having her lunch in her little sister's high chair in the kitchen. Still in too good a mood to bother arguing, the mummy set her up there, with Twin 2 and the Toddler in the dining room. This is where the problems began.
With her attention split between two different rooms, the Mummy could do nothing to prevent the cascade of events that was to follow, their unforeseen yet unavoidable conclusion inching closer and closer.
Twin 2 got hold of some ketchup. It wasn't pretty. She was promptly stripped down to her vest and pants, the only survivors of the saucy onslaught. Having been set free, Twin 2 then decided she needed to pee, urgently, so was whisked upstairs to the toilet, deposited on the seat, then left while the Mummy returned to retrieve her other two children. On her return upstairs, she found that Twin 2 had failed to pull her pants down quite far enough, and these now also needed to be removed. Twin 2 was released to seek out new clothes in her bedroom, where she promptly became distracted by Daddy's Lightsaber.
Suddenly feeling very tired, the Mummy was about to rouse herself to find clothes herself when Twin 1 announced, with some urgency, that she needed a poo. She was scooped up and placed on the toilet just in time. However, a stand-off then ensued, as to whether or not the Mummy was allowed to wipe Twin 1's bottom to remove an errant piece of poo, or, as Twin 1 insisted though failed to act upon, she could do it herself. The impasse continued for some minutes, until it was abruptly interrupted by Twin 2's urgent cries.
'I neeeeeed a poo! I neeeeed a poo!' she called, running into the room. 'Quickly, Mummy, quickly!'
The Mummy had a think fast. Twin 1 was still staging her stand-off on the booster step. Twin 2, still pants-less, would have to be manoeuvred quickly in behind her. Only there was a problem. The Lightsaber.
The Mummy cursed George Lucas as her first grab resulted in nothing more than a bruised shin where the weapon swung out and blocked the way. Frantic now, she wrestled it out of Twin 2's hand and lifted her behind her sister, who was now frozen to the spot in wonder as events unfolded, dragging everyone relentlessly, helplessly, towards their destiny...
A exactly the right point in the arc between floor and toilet, Twin 2 could hold out no longer. As she landed on the toilet, silence fell. Everyone stared. As the Mummy's foot grew warm and she remembered the hole in the top of her trainer, no one spoke. Had the poo landed a couple of inches in any direction, there would have been nothing more than a mess on the floor. As it was, as the Mummy began to strip off and attempt to get herself and two twins cleaned up before the Toddler could grab anyone or anything, she was a broken woman. A crapped-on foot. Nowhere to go from that really.