Tumble is helping herself the contents of the bin and attempting to eat them. It’s a process that’s entirely non-discriminatory as the only seclection criteria seems to be: is it at the top of the bin?
Between this and her unhealthy fascination for toilets, it’s all a bit much and it’s making any bathroom-based activity a sprint event. Earlier, in the time it took to squeeze toothpaste onto the toothbrush (which was about three seconds) Tumble had lunged towards the toilet and thrust both hands in the depths of the toilet bowl and with her head about to follow.
Later, I find Tumble deep in concentration in the downstairs toilet unravelling the freshly replaced toilet roll directly into the toilet bowl . “What are you doing, Tumble?” I ask. She looks up at me with an ear to ear grin and then, still clutching toilet paper in her little fist, she makes a break for freedom down the hallway. Shrieking with giggles, she staggers away at her top speed of about 2mph.