From downstairs came the sound of screaming and running feet ending in an almighty crash.
Waaaaaaahhhh!!
The Little Boom's wail echoed through the whole house followed by great racking sobs and yells.
A door opened.
Daddy-Bear!! What the hell are you doing up there, it's bedlam down here!?!
What was I doing? I thought it rather obvious when I had told her some time ago that I was going for my morning shit what I was doing.
Reluctantly, I put my phone down.
There's something coming out my arse!!!
I yelled back at the good lady.
What!?
A touch of concern coloured her voice.
Something horrible, oh God, it's a MONSTER!?
I moaned theatrically, as if I were an old man who had been served an over-cooked poached egg.
Oh, very funny. Well, hurry up, you're needed.
I could hear the sigh in her voice.
As I was now quite rested, I finished my business and tootled downstairs. I was feeling quite full of myself and chuckly at my own hilarity.
Can't a man have five minutes peace to do his morning shit!!
I bellowed as I thumped open the door to the lounge and marched through it..
Oh.
My bravado laden shit-boasting tailed off into nothing as I saw that we had a guest sitting on the couch, sipping coffee.
The Good Lady's doula friend, Olette.
Olette looked at the clock which showed it was just after 12 and smiled merrily at me.
I think it's more of an afternoon shit?
She said with a knowing smile.
Inwardly, I was curling up like a slug in a bag of salt at the embarrassment. My mind raced, what the hell should I say to that!?
Fortunately, my inner boom took the wheel in the absence of any brain action.
Oh but my dear Olette, a morning shit is a morning shit whether it be morning, noon or night!
She grimaced, her shit-o-meter obviously maxed out.
I winked and left her chewing on her own feet to go help the good lady.
