Meet Jeckyll. Oh, and Hyde.
Because that's Me. Both of the bastards.
Me: (roaring) Who the hell has wee'd on the seat and why the bloody hell is there a cushion in the downstairs loo? I now have wee all over my legs and I think there's some on the cushion. Yippidybloodydoodah.
Children: (meekly) Wasn't meeeeee. (chorus)
Me: Well, it wasn't me, because I tend to sit down and wee NEATLY and not DOWN THE SIDES AND ON THE SEAT or on any cushions, which for some EXTRAORDINARY REASON are on the floor of the Downstairs Loo when they SHOULD BE WHERE THEY BELONG.... ON THE BLOODY SOFA.'
Am really shouting Quite Loudly at this point.
I go to door.
It is Total Stranger. Smiling. Slightly strained smile. Has heard me shouting about wee. Oh, crap.
I crank my face into a smile. Nail it firmly into place.
HIYA! I say, cheerily. Looking twinkly and jolly.
Total Sea Change.
Children come to door and watch the exchange in interest.
Stranger: Oh, hello, could you tell me where I can find Church Lane?
Me: Yes! Of Course! Let me show you!
Am speaking with loads of Exclamation Marks and smiley Facial Expressions.
Over Compensating for all the shouting. Convincing this poor woman that I am, really, an Awfully Nice Person.
I show her where Church Lane is, with wild gestures of arms and girly sort of directions, like, Just after the Apple Tree, and Just before you get to the Big Hole in the road.
Total Stranger leaves, to friendly waves, and 'Say goodbye's' from me to children.
Notice cushion in downstairs loo.
Open mouth to shout orders to children about leaving cushions in loos and wet loo seats. But refrain.
And ask one of them to Remove the Cushion and Wipe the Seat.
Which they do. After some grumbling and Why-Should-I-It's-Always-Me type thing.
And I go to kettle and perform the gentle and calming act of making a cup of tea.
Before thinking to self what Total Arse I can be. So nice to strangers to whom I owe nothing. And so bloody horrible to my wonderful children. To whom I owe Everything.
Even Wee on my upper leg.