This morning I was prowling round my eldest son’s room, looking yet again for the source of the odd smell. I’d been looking for it for two or three weeks with no luck.
Master Four, who is almost toilet trained, was playing trains with his brother, and piped up: “Mummy, I did a good job! I got all the wee in the hole and didn’t spill any!”
“That’s good,” I said absentmindedly. Hang on. “Do you mean the hole in the toilet?”
“No,” he pointed. “That hole.”
“He wee’d in the heating vent,” big brother confirmed.
I began shouting demented things about germs, breaking the heating system, and toilets.
“I told him it was naughty,” big brother confirmed.
And Master Four just sat there, still pleased as punch and not realising how much trouble he was in.
Toilet training. So much fun.
Posted by BellaB, 14th August 2014