A scatological story today. I had to rush out early this morning and thus missed my daily ‘appointment’ with the smallest room in the house. Some time later I had half my missions accomplished when I was notified of a pressing need. A quick shufty round the local mall’s convenience indicated far too many inhabitants with flimsy stalls open at both the top and bottom. Out of the question. So I dashed off to my car and the next stop, the big hardware store, which has a small facility in the strip mall next door. As it was still early I had high hopes of beating the crowds but these were dashed as I raced in the door, only to find the cleaner in occupation with her trolley loaded high with toilet rolls and cleaning materials, having a relaxed conversation with the security guard at the doorway. Reluctant to turn tail (what would they think?) I was obliged to enter one of the stalls and perform a number one in an agony of embarrassment as there appeared to be a lull in the conversation at the time. There could be no question of a number two. So turning a deaf ear to my bodily needs (this is not quite the correct metaphor but it will have to do), I slunk away and went off to finish my shopping, resigned to the fact that now everything would have to wait until tomorrow. After all, you only get one chance don’t you? It reminds me of our holiday doing the 4 x 4 trail in the Trans-Kalahadi National Park in Botswana. There were no fences between us and the game and we were supposed to manage our personal business with a discreet visit to the bush with a spade - keeping a wary look-out for lions! The result was that my daughter and I were dammed up for the duration, took copious amounts of ‘opening medicine’ when we got to civilisation in Uppington, and left shameful odours in the bathroom of a sweet old family friend that we popped in to visit. Hopefully she will have died before we get there again.