Parker loves rocks. He has a massive "collection" that lives on our back porch. It was inside, but due to his tendency to spread it all over the floor and our habit of walking in bare feet, it was banished to the porch.
Still, it's not unusual for me to find strays littering the floors of our home from time to time (especially after an outing at a park). So, today when I went to wake Parker from his nap, I was not surprised to see a smooth, oblong, slightly cracked object on his carpet. I tilted my head and nudged it with my toe. "Is that a ro--" I started to ask. My eyes traveled a bit farther. More "rocks."
Oh. No. In case you haven't guessed by now, it wasn't a rock. At least, not one that came from the ground. Ughhh!
Parker was groggy. "What is it mommy?"
I immediately turned my attention to Maddie. She is, after all, the child who tends to relieve herself in inappropriate places. (See previous posts: It's all fun and games; Poop in the tub II, etc.) I went to her room, and waking her as gently as possible, I asked in the sweetest tone I could muster, "Maddie, did you poop in Buddy's room?" She stared at me blankly, cocked her head (as if sincerely searching her little memory banks), and answered plainly, "No." Hmmm...Maddie generally owned up to this sort of thing.
"Well, someone pooped on his floor. I want you to come in and take a look and make sure it's not yours." [Yeah, because looking at it would make all the difference. I'm sure she'd be able to determine if it was hers or his by staring at it. Idiot!]
She followed me into his room, dutifully examined the poo, and shook her head. "Nope."
I started to chuckle and shake my head. The kids looked at me as if I were crazy. It was like they were waiting for their normal [read: angry] mommy to appear and begin ranting. I mentally debated the pros and cons of just cleaning up the mess and going on about our business. In the end, I decided it would drive me crazy if I didn't know.
I began to pace the floor and lay out the facts like I'd seen lawyers on TV do so many times:
"There is poop on the floor.
Parker, you say you didn't do it.
Maddie, you say you didn't do it.
I didn't do it. Jack didn't do it. And Daddy didn't do it.
Maddie, you were playing in Parker's room before quiet time.
Parker, no one has been in here but you since quiet time started..."
Parker interrupted my musings: "Mommy, I need to change my shorts. These are all sweaty from my nap."
I took a closer look at his navy shorts. They were soaked. When he handed them to me, I smelled them. "Honey, you peed in your pants."
"No I didn't!" he insisted, insulted.
"Come here and bend over for a second." Aha! A chuckle escaped my lips. The kids were very confused. I was strangely satisfied, peaceful almost. My detective work paid off.
Parker has been under the weather for a few days and has been taking naps again (during which he sleeps like the dead). Today, when I checked on him, he had set up his blankets and pillow on the floor. Sometime during his nap, he had moved to his bed (leaving the trail of...evidence). He didn't even realize he had an accident. Poor guy!
He looked confused and upset. "It was you, honey. You didn't know it. It's okay."
He burst into tears.
He was consoled by an episode of his favorite Godzilla cartoon while I sanitized the floor. All in a day's work!