HIT AND RUN
Oh, Charlie. I thought I knew what humiliation was until I met you.
Tonight at mutual, he pooped through his diaper, through his shorts, and onto... the carpet. Like a dog. Like a mangy, dirty, filthy, untrained dog. If you are ever wondering what to do in this situation, I have the answer: You should run away as fast as you can... even if it means that you have to drive home with poop on your clothes and hands.*
To be honest, I'm really surprised that I haven't caught some sort of third world disease from all of the fecal matter floating around my house. (Oh, recent dinner guests, don't act surprised. We have two little kids!) I used to give Charlie my iPod to play with while I was changing his diaper, until he shoved my iPod in his poop. Next, I tried to give him his toothbrush to hold until.... you guessed it!... he shoved that in his poop too! Obviously, it is just too tempting for him to shove things in his poop.
I smell poop so much that I can hardly smell it anymore. I have turned into one of those mothers who flips my child around, hangs him by one leg and takes a few long sniffs with my nose literally touching his butt. Maybe the reality is that I am really embarrassing myself.