Turd Alert

Remember how I said that Corey would no longer be allowed to poo in a diaper once school was out? Note to self: dress Corey in tight fitting underwear.

Corey was wearing nothing but a pair of very loose athletic shorts yesterday when that pooping feeling snuck up on him. Somewhere in the basement, apparently. He ran upstairs, continuously repeating, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." One look at him, with one hand over his eyes and the other over his butt, I knew what was going on.

"Did you poop your pants, Corey?" was followed by a silent admission of guilt. "WHERE did you poop your pants, Corey?"

"In the basement."

"WHERE in the basement, Corey?"

"In the room with the bed."

"Which room with the bed, Corey?"

"ON the bed, Mommy."

AARRGGHHH!!!! Now, as you may know, our basement is nothing more than an over sized jumble of toys and is constantly in a state of obliteration. For two hours Shannon, Riley and I cleaned both the playroom and the bedroom, searching for Corey's misplaced turd, while Corey parked his poopy butt on the toilet. For TWO hours.

The result? The basement is completely clean and Corey's turd is still MIA. Corey did finally drop something in the toilet that required a flush, but since he doesn't let the proof hang around, we're not sure whether he truly did the deed or not.

I guess now we wait and see if an odor develops that could help us track down the turd. Or, as a good friend suggested, borrow a dog from one of the neighbors, and not only will the dog track it down, it will probably digest the evidence. That sounds like a good plan to me.