Seriously... you did *NOT* just shit on my wall!

Some friends stopped by for a visit and their girl is the age of our girl. They were excited to see each other. Excited as well, The Boy was tagging along. They were all roaming about the house playing various games. Then things were quiet for a bit. But it was that quiet that you don't really notice until it is broken by someone yelling. This time it was The Boy... yelling for Mom from an undertermined location. That can't be good. She ventured in the general direction of the yelling to find him in the bathroom. She immediately came back out and requested that I deal with the issue at hand. She couldn't put into words the horror that awaited me.

I entered The Boy's bathroom to investigate what my wife had seen. I, too, was without words. There was shit on the toilet seat. Shit on the toilet bowl. Shit on the shower tile. Shit on the wall. It was like someone let off a shit bomb in the bathroom. And there was The Boy... sitting on the toilet, holding a pair of shitty underwear. Fighting back tears, he explained that he was upstairs playing and came down stairs to go to the bathroom... but didn't make. He had accidently pooped his pants. Dude...he's approaching 5. Is that supposed to happen at 5? Even so... the kicker was him trying to clean it up himself (presumably so he could hide it or at least minimize the embarassment). Right... how's that working out for ya?

I'm not sure what he had planned on doing with those underwear. Somewhere in his mind he thought he'd just wipe it up, throw it in the trash and no one would be the wiser. But I don't think he fully grasped the magnitude of the shit storm he had created until it was too late. He had no choice but to call for help. I understand that accidents happen. Ok... you shit your pants. I get it. But at that point you should probably stop and consult an adult. But please don't get shit on my wall!