Yesterday while eating my lunch I hear, "EEEEW! Mom - there's poop on my fingers!" I do the over-done eye roll and heavy sigh, and put down my salad. As I turn the corner to the bathroom Jude says, "Mom! What happened?! "
In horror, I ask him, "Yes, Jude, what DID happen? HOW ON EARTH DID THIS HAPPEN?" He replies, "I don't know, mom! Did you see that mess? What is that?"
"It's poop Jude! IT'S POOP ALL OVER THE BATHROOM!"
He looks around and says, "Oh dang."
I still have no explanation as to how a completely potty trained little boy manages to get poop all up his back, all over the carpet, all over the shirt he had already taken off, all over the toilet, and yet still manages to keep his undies clean. There seems to be a "magic bullet" phenomenon going on at our house.