As she hoisted him to his feet, the smell of his accident hit her. He reeked with the musky odor of fresh terror as well as the fetid smell of feces. Although Anita had never smelled fear before, the instinctive meaning of the odor encoded in her DNA allowed her to recognize the scent immediately. He had been frightened and badly so. So much so, that he had thrown up and evacuated his bladder and bowels in his pants in shear panic. She took him by the hand and led him from the playground amidst the jeers of the small children.
“Lookie, Mommy! He went pee-pee in his pants!”, said a little boy who appeared to be about three years old.
“Ooooh, he made a smellie!”, exclaimed a five-year-old girl as she turned away in maternally-induced obsessive-compulsive disgust.