Mr. Waffle is giving me a break this morning. He got up with the Princess, dressed her, fed her, changed the boys, dressed them, put on their coats, put on the Princess’s coat, put the boys into their car seats, stacked them in the lift, persuaded the Princess into the lift and headed off. I shut the door but moments later heard a plaintive bleat from downstairs. From the stairwell Mr. Waffle’s voice echoed “Could you bring the Princess’s shoes downstairs?”
