Yesterday, Matt and I arrived home from work around the same time.  I had to run to the grocery store after work to pick up a few things and Matt picked Noah up from school like always.  When I got out of the car, Matt says, “Hey, you might want to come and get your son.  It’s been an interesting afternoon.”

I don’t think I was quite prepared for what I was about to see.  I walked around Matt’s opened truck door and saw Noah wearing frilly, lacy white socks, thick, all black, orthopedic-looking toddler tennis shoes, his hair was wet, and he had on his “back-up” outfit I send every day just in case he has an accident.

Matt begins to tell me what happened.

As he walked in to Noah’s preschool (and Noah’s class is the very last classroom down a very long hallway), he is smacked in the face with a horrible and pungent smell.  As he walks down the hall, the smell gets stronger and stronger.  He goes into Noah’s classroom and Noah’s teacher says, “Yeah, you smell that??  That’s your son!”

Turns out, while Noah was playing on the playground, he snuck off to a corner and had (pardon the descriptiveness) massive and explosive diarrhea that ran out of his diaper, through his shorts, down his legs, into his shoes, up his shirt, and (after not being discovered immediately by his teachers) rubbed all in his hair.

His teachers threw him into the sink (while trying to stop the other kids from playing in the poopy mess that Noah left behind) and hosed him off.  They threw all of his soiled clothing and shoes into a plastic bag and sealed it up tight.

When Noah finally saw Matt, he runs up to him, pulls up his shirt, rubs his belly and yells, “Noah feel all better!!”

When we got home and got Noah inside, we pulled those horrible black shoes off (clearly rejects left behind in a lost and found box at preschool because no parent would ever purposely put their child in these shoes), removed the lacy white socks which were clearly some random girl’s socks, and tossed Noah in the bathtub.  I worked on scrubbing all of the “smell” off of him while Matt dealt with the horrible sealed grocery bag of soiled clothing.

While Noah and I are playing with dinosaurs and bubbles, I hear Matt yell up from downstairs, “UGGHH!!  There is a turd in here.  A whole turd!!  And now there is a turd in the garbage disposal!!”

We spent a good chunk of the rest of the night doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen (with a lot of Lysol and bleach) and right before bed, when I asked Noah if he had a good day, he yelled, with the biggest smile on his face, “Noah Poop!”

Yes you did, buddy.  Yes you did.