When kids are little they have those explosive “accidents” that diapers can’t contain. Everyone knows what I am talking about, where the poop leaks out either on the top or the bottom of the diaper.
My brother was probably two when this happened:
He toddles around the corner with a “full load,” the diaper at max capacity, a small trail of diarrhea inching its way down his leg. My sister, 4, freaks out and yells out, “MOM, Albie’s leaking!!” Before my Mom could turn around my sister catches a whiff, and her having a weak stomach (even to this day) starts the gag reflex. My Mom goes to take care of my brother, when my sister’s gagging becomes reality and vomits all over my Grandfather’s poodle. My Aunt Tina grabs the dog to take him outside, walks right by my Aunt Pam, who also catches the smell of vomit and diarrhea and runs to a window, throws her head and loses her lunch.
With a stream of diarrhea running down his leg, a vomiting sister, a messy dog, a sick Aunt, and a dirty window, my brother smirked as if he knew what he had caused.