In a comment on the post "I would be a bad mother . . . ", Miz Kizzle said,
And on a serious note, running is good for moving the mail (as my late father used to say.) The rapid movement gets things going. Now maybe D. will associate running away with crapping his trousers and stay put.
Actually that may explain why the exact same thing happened this afternoon and thanks be to heaven I was home to witness it. Do you think that me falling on the ground and laughing until I almost had an asthma attack may have scarred him for life? You do? but LORDY I couldn't help it and I so needed a laugh!
He got mad because we wouldn't let him eat something really heavy and he took off out the door. He was in pajama pants and not socks or shoes. It is cold and rainy today. I knew he would be back soon because he hates his feet being cold. As he went out the door I hollered, "Don't poop your pants!" Because I am going to hell already.
He went to the edge of our yard and began hollering, "Help! Help!" As he shuffled back up the steps and across the porch he was saying, "Aw man! I pooped my pants again!"
Later he said he is "never running again since he keeps pooping his pants". Would we be horrible parents if we told him a gypsy put a "pants-pooping" curse on him to keep him in the house? Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!
I wonder how long this will last?
Seventeen years, seventeen stories.
10 hours ago