I remained silent in my humiliation. I had been burped at the hospital, but nothing that came out of me was close to the belch she had elicited. Gina took a washcloth and wiped my face for me, then sat back down to finish her own meal. I watched her eating wondering whether I had made a mistake by giving in so easily. When she was done, she picked up her dishes and my dinner tray and took them to the sink to rinse them. She returned and removed the bib from around my neck, then lifted me out of the high chair and carried me into the family room where the TV was. She sat me on the floor and turned on the TV before retiring to the couch to indulge in her evening activities. I turned around and saw her pick up her latest crocheting project, then turned back to the program she had tuned into. It was the local evening news. Normally, I don’t watch the local news, finding the stories about someone’s cat being rescued from a tree a little too plebeian for my tastes. The only reason I ever watch the local news is to get the weather report if there is bad weather coming. I sat silently and endured the kitch until the national news came on. Towards the end of the program, in the sports segment, something happened. A fetid stench started growing around me. There could only be one explanation; I had pooped in my pants! I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised after what had happened at the hospital, but I had hoped that my continence would improve once I had gotten away from the influence of the diapers. I looked around to see Gina sniffing the air, it wouldn’t take her dim brain long to deduce that I was the source of the reeking miasma that was filling the room. Just as the local news closed their show, Gina’s face lit up in an expression of motherly concern and she got up to see if my pants were dirty. I hung my head and stared at the floor as she bent over and pulled the back of my pants away from my bottom to peer inside. “Ohhh, you made a poopy!”, she exclaimed, then picked me up to take my back to the nursery for get my soiled training pants changed.
It was a humiliating experience. It had been bad enough when she had removed the wet diaper, but the process of cleaning my filthy bottom made it take that much longer. She put me back into training pants and carried me into the family room so we could finish watching the news. The rest of the night passed uneventfully until just before bedtime. I had started to doze on the floor in front of the TV when she decided it was time to show me the surprise she had made to celebrate my release from the hospital.