A gross story for ya

Yesterday after supper, I went to the store to get some cold medicine for myself. When I got home, Eric was on the computer, and Drew was crying for me. I first thought he was upset because I wouldn't let him go with me. But I saw that he was in the bathroom, so I went to see what was up. He was sitting on the toilet with tears running down his face, a blop of poop on the floor mat, and on the floor in front of the toilet. Yes, I did say a blop. You can kind of imagine what that means, right? He was obviously in a hurry to get there, but didn't quite make it. So, I tried to comfort him by saying he was fine and I'd help him get cleaned up.

I wiped him, but saw that he was more of a mess than mere toilet paper could handle. I started running a bath, him screaming and crying all the while. Eric hollered from the kitchen for Drew to stop crying. (a side note-Eric had been working on a co-worker's computer, and was already frustrated with that. So he didn't have a lot of spare patience) Drew was not to be calmed down. I had him stand up, and I tried dumping the poop from his underwear in the toilet, but he chose that moment to dodge. I had just flushed to toilet, and when he went to run, I apparently dropped his underwear. Into the flushing toilet. I got Drew in the tub, and looked around desperately hoping I didn't really flush the underwear. At that point, I would have been happy if I'd have dropped them poop-side-down on the floor. But, it was not to be. They were gone. Eric came into the bathroom at that moment to tell Drew to calm down again. I told him I flushed Drew's underwear. I thought Eric's head would explode. He went to get the plunger. He tried to bring the underwear back, but they were gone, gone, gone. At least they didn't plug up the toilet. Who knew you could flush Size 12 Fruit of the Looms? All's well that ends well, right?