Sorry I'm Late

I can't seem to get anywhere on time anymore!  I start out on time or even early and then something happens (usually involving a bodily function of some kind) to throw a kink in my plans.  Take yesterday for instance.  I got everyone up and ready to go to the sitter's house so that I could go to work.  We were actually very early, so I told the kids they could play while I loaded the car with the eighteen thousand things that it takes in order for us to leave the house.
When I came back into the house I heard Noah sobbing in the bathroom.  I walked in to find him sitting on the bathroom floor, crying into a toilet bowl of what can only be described as "oatmeal consistency" poop, and using MY HAIR COMB to fish around in it to try and get out his favorite hot wheels car.
He was hysterical and begging me to please help him get his car out.  My first instinct was to throw out the comb, flush the hot wheel, and sanitize Noah's hands. Then I remembered the time my Aunt Jeanine flushed her phone and it took three days for the plumber to get it out.  So I called Joe (who was back at the shop) and told him that Noah had dropped a hot wheel into a toilet of poop and asked if it would be okay to just flush it away.
Those of you who know my husband know his obsession with toys and it will be no surprise to you that his first question was, "Which car is it?"  Clearly the man has issues.  Upon talking with Noah they determined that this was a toy that could not be sacrificed, so Joe came back up to the house armed with some crazy contraption and fished the hot wheel out of the poopy water.
Noah and Joe were elated, the hot wheel was sanitized, my comb was thrown out, and we walked out of the door five minutes late.  So the next time I arrive somewhere a few minutes late...please keep this in mind and make sure that you really want to know what the hold-up was before you ask!