Poop ( This blog is not for the faint of heart)

I'm an evil genius!  Above is my diabolical "mad scientist laugh" face. (If I had a mustache, I would be spinning it in between my finger and thumb.)

I took it to another level.  I raised the bar.  We are now playing a high stakes game.  I no longer just pee on Mom and Dad, thats right, I now poop on them.  They are not safe.  24/7.  Public or private setting.  Diaper on or diaper off.  Its all fair game.  See, I have figured out how to hold my poop in for a full 24 hour period, then I unleash it all in one diaper busting movement.  The other day Mom was feeding me on the couch and I let her have it, she screamed in agony at the 

shear force and volume of it all, and with a smug grin, I smiled back.  Dad came rushing over to help, but his powers are useless against mine.  He went in with a wet wipe, and I retaliated with a five foot mustard shot.  He leaped back in shock and terror, and wheeled into the kitchen for reinforcements.  Alas, it was to late, the damage had been done; on the couch, on the hardwood floor, on the rug, on the coffee table, on the letter to be mailed out later that day, and yes, even a little bit on Dad's  precious i-phone.  Victory was mine, and to celebrate, I peed a little too.

The next day I repeated the event when Dad was feeding me, that one ended in a draw.  Mom and Dad had their defenses well prepared, and I only managed to force Dad into changing shorts.  I heard dad mention that "four o-clock was Beckams time of the day".  They both laughed at the mediocre punch line.   My time of the day indeed.

The following day in a very crowded public place with Mom quietly holding me in her chair, and Dad busily working on pointless paper work.  Neither of them aware of the terror that was lurking just minutes away.  Mom was the first to feel my awesome wrath.  

"Andrew" She whispers quietly.

"Yes". His reply

"Its four o-clock." With a hint of urgency in her voice, trying not to draw attention to the now desperate situation

" I know what time it is and I'm hurrying!" Actually, it was 2:30, and Dad did not know what time it was.

"No Andrew.  Its four o-clock."  The tone of her voice was pointed and obvious now.

"Babe! I said I know...what....time......it......is." He slowly sat upright in his chair as he responded.  Dad then knew what time it really was.

They both quietly picked up there things and tried to shuffle out the door to avoid any on lookers.  The day was mine, and everyone in the room knew it.  I had won the battle, and was winning the war.  Dad took me outside and laid me on the clean side of my blanket while mom went through half a dozen wet wipes to trying to clean her clothes.  She exited the building with large wet spot on her shorts from the wet wipes, like she was the one who needed the diaper.  Meanwhile Dad futilely tried to clean up the mess, but again his powers were outmatched by mine.  Twenty minutes later they had finally cleaned up and had me in a new outfit.  Only after throwing away the blanket and my previous out fit.  

It was a glorious victory, and one that I am still basking in today.  They did get the final word in earlier today though as I sat on top of two thick towels from 2pm until I eventually succeeded at around 4:30pm.  They had plenty of diapers and wipes on hand and it appears that they have caught on to my tactics, rendering me almost completely powerless.  I will just have to change things up a bit, but I still have the element of surprise, and that is my greatest weapon. 

 Until next time, I continue with my diabolical laugh.....

I make quite the pea-in-a-pod don't I?

No matter what I do, Mom still loves me. ( And I still love her)