This morning there was very nearly an embarrassing rusk incident at Storytime at the local library. Maddles was enjoying a bit of rusk action and then one of the stories moved her to fling the rusk upwards and outwards. The rusk sailed in a perfect arc, narrowly missing the workman's crack of the mother sitting in front of us (hipsters have a lot to answer for). I had to applaud Maddles' aim but was quietly relieved that she'd missed. The sensation of having a soggy rusk sliding into ones trousers can only be imagined.