I have a horrible cold, so this morning, I try and eek out a few extra minutes under the duvet. Unfortunately, all the toys are in the conservatory in a bid to keep the house tidier, which, as it turns out, is counter productive.
I wake up to the hushed voices of three children plotting together.
They have locked themselves into the family bathroom and are refusing to open the door. Fortunately, I can open it from the outside with the arm of my glassess.
Squiggle is cowering behind the door. Scooter is looking guilty at the sink and Pixie is completely drenched beside the bath.
The new tube of toothpaste is no more, as is a roll of toilet paper which has been used to inadequately soak up the flood of water on the floor and toilet brush is in the bath.
They all blame eachother and then burst into tears for the sympathy vote.