"James, did you poop in your pants?"

He throws up innocent hands. "What?"

"I smell something."

His shakes his head in pseudo-confusion. "What?"

"Did.you.poop.in.your.pants?"

As if it makes a world of difference, he coolly informs me, "Well, technically, mom, these aren't pants. These are trunks."

Apparently, boys don't stop playing just to go find a dumb bathroom. Afterall, trunks are waterproof, right?

At least it isn't a full load. Just enough to relieve the pressure and return to play.

Still, I am not amused. The Mateo, thankfully, offers to Deal With The Situation. He's a male, he understands this stuff.