Just how many things can go wrong in one hour....

It started off so innocently, me reading the newspaper and the boys watching TV while the lunch bubbled on the stove. A brief respite in a busy day...a little bit of time out.
THUMP CRASH WAAARRGGHHHH
Bang! Quite literally went the lamp in the TV room along with three plates and a cup,which I had forgotten to clear from the night before, courtesy of the youngest who was trying to emmulate his hero Tom Daley off the back of the sofa onto a pile of carefully placed cushions and bean bags.
I roared to the rescue of my furntiture tripping over Bog Boy and causing injury to insult in the proces. There was a confrontation which lasted considerably longer than I intended and in mid harangue I was brought up sharply by the acrid smell of something that was once meant to be our lunch.
Returning to the kitchen through the curtain of smog I could just make out flames reaching over the side of the pot and coming dangerously close to my ever handly bottle of red cooks wine. As I stretched out to save the bottle my calm was shattered by all nine smoke and fire alarms sounding off in joyful cacophiony delighted at last to be of use, this of course intiated a catastrophic chain of events inlcuding me dropping the precious red all over the floor, puppies escaping  and charging about in panic, Bog Boy haring upstairs to sanctuary and me creating even worse stink by thrusting flaming pan into the dirty washing up water where it exlopded gunk in a six foot greasy radius.
I spent the next forty minutes trying to bring some form of order the mess and it wasn't until I was ladling out beans on toast that I noticed that Bog Boy was not to be found. When food is about Boy Boy is usually close at hand so my antennae started to twitch coupled to that there was silence. Everyone knows that silence and small boys do not muix unless there is something badly wrong...
I tracked Bog Boy to the bathroom, but the door was shut anf there was a curious heavy breathing sound coming from within.
I opened the door to be confronted with miles and miles of loo paper an overflowing lavatory and god knows what al over hte floor. In the course of going to the loo he'd used too much paper and I really do mean too much and blocked the loo and was trying to clear it by flushing again and againa and again. The water coated the bathroom floor and dribbled across the landing, downstairs in the room below it cascaded through the floor boads all over the clean laundry...
Don't you just love it when you take time out...