That if you put pepper down to discourage the cats from pissing under your daugher's bed, and that if the cats piss there anyway, and you put the smell down to your daughter's interesting bowel habits, and so don't clear it up immediately, the piss and pepper form a cement as solid as anything Weetabix left under a highchair can achieve?
That if you shut two large cats into a small sunroom so you can open all the windows and doors in the house whilst you remove the cement from under your daughter's bed, they will in fact discover all the stray tent pegs and poo on them?
That if you have a cleaner who is turning out to be truly excellent, she will, on the same day as she reveals she has a Nelson Mandela Certificate in Caring for Children with Cerebral Palsy, inform you that she's leaving to go back to care work?
That if you decide it's finally a mild enough day to plant out the tree which has been living in the cloakroom for the past five weeks, you will, in doing so, trek mud and manure through the house ruining the finish which has just been achieved by above-mentioned cleaner?
That, just when you have finally removed the last layer of piss-cement, and rescrubbed the hallway to remove the manure, at the very moment you are revelling in the sweet scent of mint and eucalyptus cleaner, the small child with the interesting bowel habits will giggle wildly, kick her legs, and produce the most evil smelling drippy chocolate-fondue-from-hell poo on the planet?
I give up.