He was laughing so hard I could barely understand him.
Then one of the kids waddled in with a guilty look on his face.
He looked like he was smuggling a burrito in the back of his pants.
Instantly the office smelled like a racoons had died and rotted in the corner. There was a huge dump in his little kid pants.
I eyed the kid suspiciously.
I asked "Do I need to call your mom?"
He nodded yes.
The following conversation took place:
Me: Hi, It's Emily from the Boys and Girls Club. Is this guilty-kid's mom?
Kid's Mom: yes.
Me: Um... guilty-kid needs to be picked up.
Kid's Mom: I get off work in 1 1/2 hours...
Me: Nope. He needs to picked up now.
Kid's Mom: Why?
Me: He had an ummmmmm.... accident.
Kid's Mom: What accident?
Me: In his pants....
Kid's Mom: Oh! He peed his pants.
Me: Nope. He number two'ed his pants.
Kid's Mom: I'll be right there.
The whole time I was thinking: MUST. NOT. LAUGH.
I asked guilty-kid if he wanted to go to the bathroom and clean up.
He nodded yes. But then he just stood there. waiting. for me to come help him.
"This is something you're going to have to do by yourself.... I'm not allowed in the boy's bathroom."
He still did not move.
"Go." I pointed to the bathroom.
Then he waddled bow-legged out of the office leaving a fowl stink in his wake. I sprayed fabreze.