Please take your hand out of your pants.

All I want is to have a poo in peace. Is it too much to ask?

SHUT UP!

Turn off that fart machine, I can’t concentrate.

If anyone touches my knitting they are dead.

Did you really just tell the delivery man that Mummy and Daddy were still in bed?

Stop fiddling with the dog’s eyebrows.

It is VERY rude to tell someone to shut up.

If you lie on the dog like that she might stop breathing.

Did you just trump on my knee?

Daddy is having a meeting in the living room, please stop barking like a rabid dog.

No you cannot look at your brother’s testicles.

If you wave that lightsaber in my face once more I will throw it out of the window.

It is 6am, shut your eyes and count to 1000.

No, I have not just trumped.

They are not ‘bumnuts’ they are testicles.

I got to work this morning, I work in an old converted mill.  We are lucky that we have our own toilet in our office, but there are also some toilets that service the rest of the mill.  This was stuck to the door of the male toilets.

It made my Monday morning …

POLITE NOTICE

There is a male person who works in [THE MILL] whose behaviour defies belief.  I actually know who you are, and you certainly know who you are!

This person regularly defecates (lays a cable, curls one out, drops a log, has a “Brad Pitt”, the list could go on) and not only fails to flush the toilet, he doesn’t bother to wash his hands either.  By the looks of the horrific, stomach-churning discovery I made this morning in these very toilets, he probably doesn’t bother to wipe his arse either.

This person may be happy to live like an animal, but his behaviour is actually putting the health of the vast majority of civilised males in this building in jeopardy.  Nobody wants to touch a door handle which has been handled by someone who’s got faeces on their hands.

My message to this person – and I’m sure the majority of males in this building will concur – is can you please flush the toilet after you and make sure you wash your hands, you repulsive specimen.

Even cats go further to clean up after themselves than you do.

Like I say, I do know who you are, and I will make it public is I make any similar gruesome discoveries!!!!

So, hot on the heels of Amy at & 1 More means Four, Peggy at Pefectly Happy Mum and Zooarchaeologist at Being A Mummy I’m running a competition with Andrex Puppy Points.

Could they have read my recent post ‘Camping Tale – Poo and Ponder‘ and thought I was the woman for the job? I could teach you all a thing or two about toilet paper origami!

Anyway on with business …

The prize is 2 nights for 2 adults and 2 children (aged 11 or under) at the 4* Best Western in Stoke on Trent including B&B and a 1 day family pass to Alton Towers for a family of 4. The total prize value is £300.

The rules;

… The competition is open to UK, Channel Islands, Isle of Man and ROI residents only

… To get one entry you must add a comment to this post stating that you wish to enter the competition

… To get a second entry you need to follow this blog (up there to the right … see all those happy faces?)

… and finally you can get a third entry by posting the link to this giveaway on your blog

On Wednesday 5 August 2009 the winner will be pulled out of a hat by the 5 year old or the 3 year old dependent on who is not throwing a tantrum/jumping on the trampoline/having a poo at the time.

So what are you waiting for? Get commenting …

Andrex has created a fantastic rewards promotion called ‘Puppy Points’. Designed to treat you as well as your family to some special everyday rewards without the financial worry, Puppy Points is running on special packs of Andrex that are available in stores across the UK and through a dedicated website www.andrexpuppypoints.co.uk.

A wee, turned into a poo.  The 5 year old likes to ‘poo and go’.  The 3 year old unfortunately likes to ‘poo and chat’, ‘poo and ponder’, ‘poo and sing’ … all in one sitting.  I was aware that the husband was making bacon butties and eggy bread and didn’t want to miss out. I felt anxious as we launched into our 3rd round of ‘The Wheels on the Bus’.

My boy cannot be rushed.  After our sing song he wanted to discuss the fact that I was taller than him, that he didn’t want to go home, whether he was going to pre-school or not that day, that he liked me and whether he could watch Wallace and Gromit when we got home.

When he announced that he’d finished I was delighted … I could taste the bacon sandwich that I would shortly be stuffing into my mouth.

It was then that I discovered to my horror that there was only one solitary sheet of toilet paper left.

I considered my options.  Could I run next door past the queue of ladies with their ‘early morning camping bladder’ and demand toilet paper whilst hoping that no one entered the single toilet with my 3 year old bent over zealously waving his bottom in the air?  No.  I checked my pockets for emergency tissues.  None.  Could we wait till we got back to the tent where there was an abundance of wipes and tissues.  No, it wasn’t that sort of poo … if you get me

So I can now testify that in moments of extreme toilet paper loss you can fold a piece of toilet paper 4 times and still have a clean bottom.

Poo at breakfast, poo for lunch, poo for tea and just a soupçon of poo before bedding down for the night.

All courtesy of the 3 year old. He uses the word to punctuate nearly every sentence.

Me – “Would you like a drink?”

3 year old - “Yes, poo”

Me - “Where is your sister?”

3 year old – “Upstairs in her room, poo”

I would be beginning to think he had an unfortunate speech impediment if he didn’t have an evil grin on his face coupled with a sneaky sideways glance EVERY time he says it.

The evil sideways glance is not dissimilarto his 'peanut stealing' face

He says it so frequently that even the 4 year old chooses not to use it anymore. “It’s boring” she said to him last night in the car.  We were playing ‘pretend the 3 year old is not singing pooooooo pooeeeey pooooooo pooeeeey’ and I had to let her in on the rules before she spontaneously combusted in an irritated rage;

1.  Pretend he isn’t saying poo

2.  Start an animated conversation excluding the person singing the poo song

3.  Don’t laugh at him

and the golden rule …

4.  Do not, whatever you do, tell him not to say poo

Being 4 and quite bossy she found number 4 quite difficult which compounded the problem. “Stop it, stop saying poo, just STOP IT, stop saying POOOOOO” she yelled across the car at him.  We had to listen to the ‘pooooooo pooeeeey pooooooo pooeeeey’ song for 20 minutes instead of the usual 5.

I think maybe we need to change tactics.  Perhaps I shall wake up tomorrow morning and become a poo adversary.

I will ask him if he’d like poo with his cereal followed by some rather tasty poo on toast.  Would he like to go to the park on his poo bike and feed the poo ducks?  It’s a possibility that if the weather is nice he’d like an ice cream cone with a flake poo.

At bedtime I will get him to snuggle down on his poo pillow and bid him a  goodnight poo.