This is the tale of a badly timed poo. (Turn away now if you are of a squeamish disposition.)
It so happened that as we embarked upon our school hols tour, we discovered a non-functional front headlight. Illegal and dangerous, we booked into the first car service dealership not more than an hour away from home. It was to be our first port of call.
As we neared the pit stop, Natty called out from her back seat throne "I've got headache in my tummy." Her clever way of saying tummy ache. "We're nearly there darling." "No, headache in my tummy. I need a poo poo."
That's one phrase we NEVER argue with. Natty is reliably dry and clean by day, but there are always exceptions to the rule.