As we stopped by the side of the A338 for the McBaby to do a wee, I patted him on the back for telling me in time that he needed the loo, and ignored the fact that most of the wee was ending up on my shoes.
Just 15 minutes before this as I was drying him after a hour-long swim, he told me he needed the toilet as I was changing him out of his swimming trunks. Between us, in a tiny, dirty cubicle, we managed to catch most of the poo in the just-discarded swimming nappy, while I caught the rest in a pair of socks.
Then, struggling to find anywhere to put this little package in the boot of the car, I found a bottle of whiskey in a presentation box in the boot of the car; it had been destined for a friend but I forgot to give it to her. I took out the bottle and put the socks inside the box. Note to self; throw that box away; don't give it to anyone as a gift.
So, having dealt with this, why did I not see the next thing coming? As a treat after swimming, I thought I'd take him to the new café that's opened up about 15 minutes from our house. It's lovely in there, very clean and homely with friendly, welcoming staff. We had a look at the menu, and as I turned to ask the McBaby what he'd like to eat, noticed his cheeks puffed out like a plumber telling me about the boiler.
Instinctively, I held him away from me so that my body caught all of the vomit while the lady behind the counter told me the specials. I legged it to the toilet and bless her, the lady came with me and offered lots of kitchen roll, praising me for ensuring none of the sick went on the floor.
We apologised profusely to the amazing staff; I noticed a customer at a table near the door who didn't look too impressed with what she'd just seen so hopefully she writes a blog too so I can experience it from someone else's point of view.
The McBaby and I limboed out of the door and back to the car and made it home. I'm currently doing our fourth load of laundry of the day, but thankful that the police officers that were stopping people on the main road somehow let me go by unimpeded. Perhaps they could smell us.