Wrapping Up(3)

A pair of underwear and a pack of marbles……..

“I’ll call the septic guy.” I hurried out of the room before he could ask me any questions.

“We need to get this fixed before everyone shows up; otherwise we will need to move Thanksgiving back to Mom’s house.” Colt’s words made me sad. This was my first time making dinner at our house. The whole family was coming and I was so excited about it. The last thing I wanted was to have to move dinner because of a drain problem.

Since I knew that the family was coming in the morning, I had to find a septic guy that could fix our problem immediately. Just one accidental flush and we’d be looking at new carpet. I was mad at my son, but I was also afraid of what his punishment was going to be once his father found out what he’d put down the drain.

Once I got a hold of a company, I went into my son’s room and found him pouting on his bed. “Are you going to explain to me why you flushed a pair of underwear down the toilet?”

“I heard you saying that you had all of the laundry in the house done, so when something bad happened, I just flushed them.”

“Something bad? What are you talking about, child?”

“I sharted.” Now, I wasn’t sure what was more shocking. The fact that my child said the word or that he knew what it was.

“You what?” I just needed to hear it once more, in case I was losing my mind.

“I sharted and got poop in my underwear. I didn’t want you to be mad at me.” He looked down at his bed and traced the fabric. “It wouldn’t go down, so I put the marbles on it to make it heavier.”

“Stop saying that word, Noah. That isn’t a nice word.”

He looked really afraid. “Are you going to tell Dad?”

I threw my hands up in the air. “I don’t know what to do. I mean, the whole family will be here tomorrow and you have now clogged up all of the drains with marbles and underwear. There is no telling how much it is going to cost us. Why would you do something like that? You know better and who taught you the word ‘shart’?”

Some little kid at school was really going to pay…

“Uncle Ty.”





Chapter 2

Colt

After paying out the ass for someone to make a service call after hours, to unclog my son’s underwear from our plumbing, Noah sat on the couch waiting for me. He knew he was in deep shit and refused to even look at me.

“Son, why would you do something like that?”

He shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.

“Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you.”

Noah looked up, but was still sniffling from when the serviceman came inside with a pair of little boy underwear and a handful of marbles. He knew right there, his secret had been revealed. I could have guessed as much. Christian was too small to flush a toilet and Savanna and I would never have done something like that.

“Noah, you just cost your mother and I a lot of money. I just want to know why you chose the toilet. Why didn’t you just throw them in the trash?”

Savanna came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. “He didn’t want us to know that he had an accident.”

An accident? He was almost six years old. “Was he sick to his stomach?”

Savanna held her hands up like she had no clue why he’d done it. We both looked over at Noah. “I wasn’t sick, I just sharted.”

“Sharted? What the..? What is a shart?” Apparently I was getting too old for all these new terms.

My wife put her hand over her mouth, unable to contain her laughter. Obviously, it was something I should have known. “Colt, Babe, think about the word.”

Before I could take her advice, my son started talking. “Dad, it’s when you fart and you accidentally shit yourself.” He just sat there with his head down, like he hadn’t used profanity in front of his mother and I.”

“Boy, get your ass up into that bathroom, now!” Noah started crying and stomped up to the bathroom. Before following him, I turned around to see my wife hunched over, laughing even harder than before. “What?”

“Before you punish him, I think you need to ask him where he learned that from.”

I started walking up the steps, but stopped halfway. “Was it you?”

She shook her head and let out a few more cackles. “Of course not! Just ask your son. It makes everything even funnier.”

I was so pissed at Noah that I wasn’t even thinking about where he learned the word and its meaning. He was sitting on the edge of his tub, probably praying that I was going to forget he was in there. As I walked into the room, I saw him trying to scoot further away from me. I reached behind my son and grabbed the bar of soap. He looked up at me and I saw the tears in his eyes. “When I was your age, I said a bad word in front of my mother. Your granddaddy drug me up to the bathroom and washed my mouth out with soap. Do you understand why I’m doin’ this?”