So, Punk comes up to me and hands me a pair of his Lightening McQueen underpants. "I'm sorry, Mama. It was an accident," he says. "What happened?" I say calmly and cautiously, seeing nor feeling anything requiring me to freak out just yet. He retrieves them from my ginger grasp and hunts and hunts for something. These are not large underwear--they belong to a rather small and adorable pair of biscuits. Eventually, he finds it. And reveals it. It is a samll, thin patch of slightly chunky poop. "What happened?" I say again, setting aside the evidence and gathering up the penitent in my lap. "Well, I sorta forgot to wipe. And, then. . . sometimes. . . when I sit down, my underwear goes up into my butthole." I couldn't help it. I giggled. So matter-of-fact. Hee hee! I questioned him a bit further to ensure that everything was now as it should be and told him not to worry about it anymore. "I'll take care of it, honey." And then I got an anaconda hug.