It was one of those almost-Vasectomy-on-the-morrow-inspiring evenings when one’s energy is sapped after facing too many hurdles, too many paternal challenges. Specifically, the regression of junior progeny to a point that I thought we’d all got past many years ago. I thought that was all over, gone, passed, accepted, signed-off. I thought I would never again have to face that magnitude of feculence in those sorts of locations again. Deposits on the person (straight after the nightly washing ritual) and then subsequent discovery of more on the underside of the rug. How did that happen? Evidently the comprehension and mastery of this area’s required skills wasn’t entirely completed to satisfaction previously, resulting in a hasty revision lesson and much laundering. And, in the cold light of day, continuing confusion as to how it got where it did. It is destined to remain a mystery.
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4 replies on “What an evening”
Sounds like you were visited from those pernicious (sp?) twins “Not me” and “I dodn’t do it”. Perhaps some mysterys are better left unsolved.
Daniel,
I have absolutely no idea what yuo are talking about (and I’m a parent)
you lost me at feculence. (All though I think I got the jist of it)
Nights like that are the shits.
Ahh… someone have a bit of an accident? No, it’s not a very pleasant way to spend an evening.