Shit and Crumbs

For most people, taking a shit in peace is the usual, for parents it is a well known and rarely experienced luxury. It is also a thing of fear and terror when you go take your seat, and there are no followers. Instead, there is silence. 

Lunch time, Miss O contained in high chair, Miss G busy licking the jam off the bread. Window of opportunity. 

Then I hear the laughter. 

The laughter escalates ..... add banging ....

May have broken my PB for wiping .....

I walk out of my room and am greeted with a line of crushed and mushed food, leading from the front door down to the dining area, and 2 very chuffed looking girls. 

Seems Miss G started riding her plastic trike, Miss O started throwing her food on the floor, Miss G ran over it and upon seeing it made a mess, laughed and did it again. The banging was her zooming down the hallway and slamming into the front door, hence the hysterical laughter from Miss O.

What I failed to see, until after the girls were in bed, was the second mass of food crumbs all over the lounge room rug. 

The fucking shit can stay there, I'm not waking the kids to vacuum it, plus the inevitable swarm of ants will give Miss G something to play with in the morning.