"But I'm really desparate!" pleaded my mum.

"I don't care, you can't!" Maybe I'm being a bit too harsh, but the line has to be drawn somewhere.

I am at my new flat taking some measurements and looking around. Mr Dave, the foreman and builder of my future home is showing me around. He shows me the coded entry system. "If you forget your key, all you have to do is push Code and then 8752. The door will then open." He pulls the door. It is locked. "I don't think I was quick enough. I'll try again."

This time the door opens but it was opened from the inside by a shaggy haired tall gentleman. I look my new neighbour up and down and in true English fashion take an instant dislike to him. He is, I think, the sort of person who will be burning insence and listening to Oasis till the early hours. And once more in true English fashion, I hide my dislike of him, smile and say "Good Morning!".

The carpet is down and kitchen appliances are in. Mr Dave takes me round and shows me the boiler, the gas taps, the fuses, the extractor fans and the bondage dungeon. He still has to do some stuff around the flat but he leaves us to take measurements. And that is when my mum breaks the news.

"I need the toilet."

After 5 minutes of badgering about how she's going to explode if she doesn't go, I finally allow her to use the guest bathroom. I check that the toilet flushes, I am not having a floater sitting in my flat for two weeks. She goes but comes out looking all embarassed. "I seem to have made a mess of the bowl. It wasn't really my fault, it came out at the wrong angle."

Sure enough there was a big brown stain on my nice new clean white toilet bowl.