Fun little story here. Today at school, our hero pooped a little bit, but Sally (or Lallie, as Nyan calls her) warned us that there was, how you say, more still up there, and that we should be ready for it. Well. Fast-forward to bath time this evening. (Think you know where this one is going? Well, read on…)

After a few minutes in the tub, Nyan got that Look – the one that says ‘hmm, it’s so warm and relaxing in this tub, I think I might take a poop!’ A few seconds later, I smelled it. A fart! (or so I thought.) I figured it was time to pull him out of the tub, towel him off really quick, take him to the changing table and slap a diaper on him to catch his poop. Just then, Nyan reached his hand into the waist-deep water he was sitting in, and pulled it out… holding a big piece of poop! He looked at it, I looked at it… and it split in two in his hands, both halves falling back into the water with a little splash.

It must have been startling for the poor boy, because he started bawling. Really upset, poor little guy. I pulled him out, wrapped him in a towel, tried to keep his poopy hands from getting all over me (he managed to smear some on the outside of the tub, we found later) and carried him back to the changing table. He cried for several more minutes. (He was also quite tired, which no doubt contributed to his over-the-top reaction to finding a large, crumbly piece of shit in his bath water.)

Ah, Nyan Thomas. Never a dull moment!