Oscar and Danny were playing in the pass through the other day. Monday. Suddenly I hear Oscar saying, "Danny, let me smell your butt," and I could just barely see them through one of the four doorways and Oscar was indeed sniffing Danny's bottom. It seemed Danny had had a little accident and Oscar was checking for proof. When I hollered in to see what was going on Oscar replied, "I think Danny has to poop."
This time last year I was caring for three (GAH!) small children in diapers, so I had to do the sniff test a lot since it wasn't always obvious who had done what in their pants. This is likely where Oscar has learned his technique. Also because I ask him pretty regularly to "check" to see if Miles has a dirty diaper, since Miles is mostly interested in running from me when his bum is foul and occupying whatever space Oscar is occupying. So, it works.
Anyways, this sniff test is not the first time Oscar has informed me of another child's bowel movements. Earlier this spring, when he and Danny were playing my the lilac bushes Oscar dashed over to tell me that Danny had pooped! Also, once in late winter, when we were at the playground and he and Danny were on the tall play structure, "Momma! Danny pooooooped!" Oscar announced.
Just this morning, the three big boys were playing at the toy kitchen (located in the dining room) and Oscar came running into the living room, "Momma, Miles pooped in his diaper." And Miles had indeed pooped in his diaper.
Then it occurred to me: Oscar has become the Paul Revere of poopy diapers. He is ready to ride and spread the alarm, my friends. The poopy diapers are coming! The poopy diapers are coming! His bravery knows no bounds. He will risk life and limb, stumbling through cars and dinosaurs and trains to alert me to the coming threat! "Prepare the wipes and changing pad, Momma! Get ready for battle! The poopy diapers are coming!"
He's such a hero. I'm sure Maya Angelou is penning a poem in his honor right now. I am so proud.