I sat at the breakfast table. The rising sun spilling in through the window. The house was quiet. Steam curled gently up from my freshly made coffee.
Everything seemed just right.
The good lady came bustling into the lounge.
Daddy!!! Daddy!! The toilet's blocked?! You will have to fix it!
The good lady looked a little red in the face.
I took a sip of coffee and sighed. Oh well, so much for peace and quiet.
I will fix it.
I heaved my weary bones up the stairs. At the top, I opened the door to the toilet.
Auuueeuegrghghg!!!
I staggered back and almost fell down the stairs. At the bottom, I thrashed my way through the door and into the lounge.
What the flaming fuck is that??! What did you do?
The good lady face beamed bright red.
I didn't do anything. That toilet's rubbish. It's always getting blocked.
I took a step back in disbelief.
You didn't do anything? Do we have a pet hippo? Have you seen the size of the log that is jutting out of the bog? Its like a horse's neck?
It most certainly is not like a horse's neck!
It is, It's massive. I have never seen the like? No wonder your second birth was easy.
The good lady set her lips in a narrow line. Perhaps I had gone a bit too far with that one.
As you are well aware, Daddy, I did not deliver the little guy out of my arse.
I ran a hand through my hair.
Ok, perhaps not. It is massive though. Its standing clear of the water. It's like an iceberg. Well, shitberg maybe.
The good lady rolled her eyes like it was 1995.
Do you have to be so guttural all the time? Shitberg? I mean for goodness sake, can't we call it something else?
I flinched visibly at the idea.
We are naming our shit's now? Well, I am sorry but I am all out of shit names so shitberg will have to do.
The good lady smiled as her face lit up.
I know. Princess! That is much nicer.
My eyes bugged out my head slightly.
Are you for real? Has the breastfeeding finally addled your senses?
The good lady chirpily bustled into the kitchen, calling out over her shoulder.
So if you would be a dear, Daddy. Could you go and remove Princess from the bathroom, please? Go on, chop chop.
I shook my head and headed into the garden to find a stick. Of all of the things I had thought that today might bring, rassling with a shit named Princess certainly wasn't one of them.
Sometime Sundays suck ass.
