While I was being a good girl and working out on my new Wii Fit Plus that Santa Ben got me for Christmas, Audrey started yelling from the kids' room.
What I heard went something like this: "Mom ...mumble.. Henry ...mumble.. poooop!"
This is not uncommon, of course. Audrey usually lets me know when Henry has a dirty diaper so that I can come in and rescue her from the smell. (i.e. change the diaper.)
Since I was working out, I reached over and gave Ben a friendly shove to let him know Audrey was calling. I think his eyes actually creaked when they opened and he shuffled off to the hallway.
This is the next thing that I heard: "CRAP! ..... LITERALLY!"
I hesitated for just one moment, pondering the vision that suddenly sprang into my head. On the tame end, my imagination conjured up a stray sitting on the floor, my son innocently staring at it as if wondering how it escaped. On the wild end, I imagined the walls smeared with poop and my son cackling insanely.
As is usually the case, reality sat squarely in the middle.
Henry was naked from the waist down, diaper crumpled and left near the door as if to imply that it had no business in that room in the first place and was politely waiting to be let out. There were several deposits scattered around the room. I wondered if he had pooped with the diaper still on and then festively threw them around like confetti after he figured out how to get his diaper off. The other possibility that struck me was that he had taken the diaper off and then just squatted when he needed to, no matter where he was.
We cleaned up and I resumed my exercising. Ben told me just a few moments ago that, in an attempt to deter Henry from any more stripping, he put the little boy's diaper on backward. We'll see how long that foils him.
On a less disgusting and funny note, here is a "nugget" from Audrey while her father was taking out the trash:
A: "Dad, that's your job."
A: "You go and DO it, Dad!!"
E: "Audrey, do you tell Dad what to do?"
A: "No.... That's YOUR job!"