Beware the smug

I'm typing this crouched on a z-bed in my sons' room. It's 8.18pm and I'm on look out. About 20 minutes ago I trudged upstairs - reluctantly leaving my gin in a tin and Pom-Bears behind - to shouts of 'There's a poo. A POO. On the carpet." Oh boy. I walked in just in time to see my youngest ...