Breaking news... or something like that.
Moments ago I noticed that The Boy was lost (most likely in my room) for much too long. I jumped up and darted into my bedroom, sure he was there. I had only recently got The Baby to sleep, or really I should say finally; he's been doing this annoying fighting sleep thing which is understandable, I mean seriously he can finally do something besides just lay there. Knowing that The Boy likes to climb up The Baby's crib and do other uncalled for things, there was certainly need for me to be in a hurry. I quickly scanned my room, the crib, the swing... no boy. Ah, but then I was greeted by a all too familiar smell; I rushed through my hall way to my bathroom and there it was. I prepared my self to go through the usual routine when my missing son reemerged in his usual two year old naked glory. He strutted out of the toilet room with a square of toilet paper in hand, then before I could say anything he marched over and using said square of toilet paper; picked up his recently deposited log and then ran back to the toilet where he then tossed his poo and flushed it down. The he simply said, "Ew Mom", and... well what do you do when something like that happens? I laughed, made sure butts were wiped and then a good hand washing... no scolding though - it just wouldn't have been effective with all the laughing that was happening.
It was nice, for once, to not be the only poop picker-uper, but I have to wonder how much more poo I'm going to have to endure.