I have been spending a few days back home with my family. This includes my sister and my two young nephews, with whom I ‘enjoyed’ a few hours of quality time a couple of evenings ago.

“Poo poo!” said one year-old nephew number two to everyone in the room.

The words were utterly redundant. It was pretty obvious to anyone with a nasal cavity that he had in fact done a poo-poo of epic proportion. It is disappointing that he can barely say mama or dadda, yet he is perfectly eloquent when telling the world he has soiled himself. This does not bode well for his academic career.

Despite my vociferous protests, my sister decided to change him in the lounge, in full view of both myself and my mother.

“Oh dear, it seems like he’s got the runs.” commented my mother as the nappy was removed.

“Woo! He does hum a bit, but I’ll have him clean enough to eat your dinner off him in a minute.” replied my sister. I felt like pointing out that there is not enough bacterial wash in the world to make me consider eating off something capable of making that smell, but I decided not to raise my head from my hands for fear of seeing something I really did not want to see. Plus the fact that speaking would mean taking another breath.

“Oh dear, does that make you feel a little nauseous?” asked my Mom.

“Yes, it does actually. I think I might need to get some air.” I replied honestly.

“I was talking to your sister.”

Unfortunately, it is way too late for me to change my family. They have all my contact details (including my super-secret email address and mobile phone number) so they would probably find me again pretty quickly and then claim me as one of their own. Which would be embarrassing in front of my super cool new family that I would buy on eBay.

Later, as the carrier bag containing the soiled nappy went flying passed my head, I cursed my luck in the genetic lottery and gave thanks for my sisters poor aim.

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