The other morning Wombat was unwell. BUT diligent - that 3yr old gorgeousness ran with great desperation from his room, through the free-flow lounge, dining area, through the kitchen, right through to the bathroom where he shrieked for a bucket all so he could be sick in it! Gem.
Later as we cuddled in "the big bed" I asked him. "Did you spew in your bed?"
Wombat: No.
Me: You're AWESOME.
Wombat: Yes I am.
However a few minutes later he power chucked all over himself, me, our pillows and some of the bed requiring that I strip the bed and shower myself and the wombat-ty cherub.
After seeing to all this cleaning, wiping and soaking - all before school I might add - The Monk expressed some frustration about when we might be heading out to school to drop off him and Bear.
I responded "Wellllll, what do you still have to do to get ready?"
Ever the charmer Monk responded "Uh, I need to poo in my pants."
Me (without so much as an eye twitch) "Well, you better get pooing then - you wouldn't want to hold us up!"
And that was THAT.