The last 34 minutes have been spent cleaning up the icky brown stuff.
I'll set the scene.
Clark is clean and diapered and ready for bed.
We read a book, say our prayers, tell a story, and turn on the music. Then we leave the room. He knows he can't (read: shouldn't) get out of bed until the music stops.
Here is where you have to put on your almost 3 year old caps...
I woke up to Clark yelling, "Mom, the poop came out."
Enter his room...
Lights are on. Diaper is open on the floor, totally clean. Clark is bent over on his bed repeating, "Mom, the poop came out." Like it was all the poop's fault. Then I see exactly what the poop had done. A large log lay on his quilt. It's smeared all over his legs. I see it on the carpet. Clark is now wearing underwear that is covered in poop too. Poor Batman didn't see it coming.
Potty training was on the list for next week...I guess it needs to come a little sooner.