An incident

Dot writes: yesterday evening I walked into our bedroom and discovered my younger son on our bed, just next to a big wet patch and a lump of soggy toilet paper where he had tipped out a glass of water. I uttered the expected expostulations (and realised it was partly my fault for leaving the water within reach); removed the culprit and stripped off the sheets. But as I considered the matter further something occurred to me. There’s no toilet paper in our bedroom; it must have come from the bathroom. Why would Frank have brought toilet paper into our room unless he had first had his little accident, and then fetched the paper and tried to mop the water up?

Maybe this is just the perspective of an adoring mother, but I think that’s quite impressive in an eighteen-month-old.


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