Little Stacy Campbell was banging on a metal pot with a clothes pin. She sat on the floor while her mother sat on the sofa, painting her toe nails.

Although five years of age, Stacy wore diapers as no one bothered to toilet train her.

Her mother's cell phone rang, but Stacy didn't stop banging. Marcy, rose, grabbed her daughter's arm, dragged her across the room, flung her into the corridor, shut the door and answered the call.

The caller was Nell, asking Marcy if she was meeting them at Playground tonight.

"Of course..." Marcy replied, as if there could be no question.