One, Two Three!
Number One, two, three …
By Lorraine Anderson
When my triplets, Harry, Laura and George were 3 years old they 'decided' to 'help' me with the decorating. Big disaster as they pasted sections of the Argos catalogue onto newly papered walls … a diversion was called for, so off we went into the car to B&Q for yet more supplies.
As a mother of three, with one who is very mischievous and hyperactive, I am constantly counting heads. I was absolutely horrified when I only counted two and looked around for the third, George missing, a frantic search began but to no avail. The other two giggled constantly but would not tell me where he was.
'George, where are you?' I shouted, looking everywhere for him.
I heard a Lady in the next aisle say, 'That is disgusting!' and I knew my search was nearly over!
'George, where are you? What are you doing?' I shouted from the other side of the aisle.
'I am having a pooh that's all.' He replied matter of factly.
I nearly died as I turned the corner to find George with his Spiderman pants down at his ankles, sitting on the display toilet pushing until he was red in the face! But not as red as mine, I didn't know where to look as by now there was a crowd gathering and it could not get any worse surely?
'Mummy look here is a Barbie pink one.' Said Laura starting to sit on it,
'Laura I have a blue one.' Replied Harry, pulling down his trousers, bare bum in full view as he contemplated 'standing or sitting position'.
My cool exterior crumbled into full blown panic and hysteria as I shouted, 'Get off quick they aren't real toilets, for goodness sake don't wee in them.'
'Mum, I haven't weed.' Said George, thank goodness for small mercies?
'Mum I have done a big pooh and it is massive … look.' He said proudly, as I looked it total horror, it certainly was massive! How he 'parted' with it I will never know?
'Yes darling, it is BIG, come on I will have to find someone to tell.' How could this happen to me? Head up, I marched to the Information desk, with three giggling children in tow.
'Are you proud of me mummy? Is that why you want to tell everyone about my pooh?' Not quite but after all it was down the toilet and not in his pants,
'Excuse me.' I said to the pristine lady behind the desk, who was stood with someone fresh out of school who I took to be a trainee.
'Hello Madam, I am Fiona and I am happy to help!' (You won't be in a minute I thought)
'I am really very sorry but my little boy has had an 'accident' and I need something to clean up the 'mess.'
'Don't worry Madam, I will get a mop.' She said still smiling.
'I am sorry, he has 'done it' on the display toilet'. I said helplessly, totally embarrassed.
'It happens all of the time, I will get a tissue then'. She said.
'My pooh's massive you will need lots of toilet roll as it is the best one I have ever done.' Claimed George proudly.
'Oh!' was all 'Fiona, happy to help' could muster up.
I did offer to clean it up but the trainee was duly despatched to 'learn the reality' as Fiona put it! I left red faced never to return for a long time or so I hoped but the alarm went off as a tag was still on my purchase, thus setting off the alarm!
After returning to the till for it to be removed George saw THE toilet and shouted, 'Look, I did a pooh on that one didn't I Mummy?'
But how can you be cross after all George was not to know they were not plumbed in was he? We left quickly heads down…