Players: The Mummy (my son went through a phase of calling me THE Mummy as if I regularly rose up out of a dusty sarcophagus, draped in bandages and moaning. Clearly he has pin sharp recollection of the time after my second son was born.....), My Eldest Son and The Toddler (I have now officially promoted him from the position of The Baby).
The Scene: The Mummy is on The Toilet.
'MUMMY' (my eldest son can not talk normally - he merely BOOMS. People regularly stop me to inform me how deep his voice is - as if I somehow hadn't noticed).
'What is that hair?'.
'What hair?' (Oh f**k. I know full well what hair he is talking about, I'm just playing for time here).
'What all this hair on my head?' (here's hoping!).
'No mummy. That hair all on your No Willy' (in his world boys and men have willies. Girl and ladies quite simply have 'no willies').
'Ohhh that! Well that's just something ladies have when they grow up.'
'It shows they are ready to have babies' (WHAT!? This is bad. Nearly as bad as my explanation of Satchmo's death)
'Are you going to have a baby today then?'.
'Erm. NO. It happened before I had them. After you have them it just stays'.
'It's just the natural way' (this could be my new stock answer for many things from now on).
'So it's just for ladies?'.
'No men have it too'
'But Daddy hasn't got any'.
'Ohhh I'm sure he has' (I feel it highly unlikely that my OH has gone down the Brazilian waxing route. Although, then again, I can't be sure....).
'No Mummy. DADDY HAS NO HAIR ON HIS WILLY' (boomed loud enough to ensure that not just everybody in the toilets can here this 'fact' but also everyone browsing the magazines and half of the fruit and veg aisle).
Never has a discussion about the purpose of the Sanitary Waste bins seemed like such a preferable alternative.