5.36pm: The lad, twin1 and twin2 are happily finishing off their tea with a piece of chocolate cake. There are crumbs and the remnants of sausage casserole all over the place. Because my gorgeous mother folded all my washing today I am planning on sitting by the bath and chatting to my littlies, enjoying the last hour or so of their waking day by fully devoting my attention to them and soaping their soft bodies. In my role as homeopathic, eco-mother I brew a large pot of very strong redbush tea and pour it into the running bath to help with twin1's eczema. Feelings of wellbeing are running high. The house is tidy, tea is over, bathtime should be sweet smelling and suffused with maternal love.
5.40pm: twin2 exudes a strong smell of excrement so I neatly dodge her and undress twin1 at her seat in the kitchen. As I carry her out into the hall to the bathroom I notice the slurry of mud and tea smeared all over the carpet running the length of the corridor. At the foot of the landslide sits the lad with fistfulls of wet mud. The red mist descends, my eyes pop out of my head and I put the naked twin down so that I can march the naughty lad into his room, scream at him and then clear up the mess.
5.43pm: A cursory rub of the floor later I unpack the less than savoury smelling twin2 from her highchair. As I carry her into the hallway the smell of shit hits me from a different angle. My gaze reveals the addition to the poorly cleared up mess of several wet lumps of turd. I follow the trail into the lad's room to find the final nugget being laid by naked twin1. Now what? I am holding twin2 while twin1 roams about in the pooh obstacle course and the lad is sobbing sadly after being reprimanded and now more so that he realises that there is shit in his room.
Needless to say as I type this both twins are gorgeously clean and happy, tucked up in their pits while the lad sits centry on his bike at the gate, waiting for his Daddy to come home from work. All in a day's shitastrophic work.