One day, there were two little boys, one was 5 and the other 1.5 years old. They were having breakfast in the living room mainly because sponge bob was on and mom thought it would keep them quiet and she could do some kitchen work. While dad was busy from the moment he got up, tackling many tasks in the home office, when comes out of the silence, “Mom, Ezra has a poopy diaper”. Followed by a few short minutes and then, “Mom hurry”, approximately 3 minutes later she went into the living room and to her utter dismay she found it in utter disarray. Dad heard the words from Mom, “oh dear Lord”. Knowing what this meant, Dad rushed to the scene and in disbelief said, “wow, really” and then he threw up.
There was poop all over the place, green goo that can only be described one way, bile from the pit of satan port-o-john! What is worse, the older boy sat there enjoying sponge bob and his square pants, all while his little brother was pooping out of his pants. It looked like an “A” bomb full of pooh went off. Dad did the only honorable thing he could, he left and went to work till he was summoned to scrap pooh from the ceiling. A job he did with honor, and a wash cloth over his nose and mouth.
If you are out there and you hear the distress of a boy calling for his mother because of something his brother did and it involves pooh, run… just run!
