Talking of wanting to go to the loo I'll never forget one Saturday night when my eldest daughter was just 12.
I'd been out with the boys for a few beers and got home rather the worse for wear, but managed to get to bed without disturbing anyone.
However, by around three in the morning I could hold my bladder no longer so got up to go to the bathroom. As I stood there (as nature intended) I felt a pair of cold, clammy hands on my butt as a soft voice whispered, "Dad, the bathroom is further along, this is the airing cupboard."
"Thank God you saved me", I replied, "whatever you do, don't tell your mother."
But it was too late, my bladder couldn't wait and her mother had witnessed everything. I'll let you all know when I'm out of the doghouse!