Personal Narrative: The Book Of Noah

I bet you are in the mood for another chapter that involves a copious amount of poop.
I can feel the anticipation now ready to delve into more defecation tales…or an eye roll as you think to yourself that this guy needs to get out more.
Look, I am really not trying to gross you folks out with another story about Noah's bodily functions. For whatever reason yet to be figured out, the combination of Noah and his feces creates fairly odd (and yes, disgusting) situations. This is “The Book of Noah” after all, and despite the stinky rebelling of these tales I wouldn’t be sharing them unless it was part of his tale… never mind (in past tense) pretty damned funny.
As I mentioned before, the neighborhood that C and I live in over the last few years

After not seeing him as we looked around, we called his name to see if he would hear us. One of the “normal” things about Noah was, like every other kid who has grown up in the last 100 years he had “selective hearing.” After he didn’t respond to us calling him, I began to wonder if we just repeated the same mistake we made a year ago, but I quickly stifled that thought and C and I walked towards the living room to see if he was playing there. We continued to call him, and eventually we saw that he made his way upstairs. I motioned for him to come downstairs, and as he did so my nostrils alerted me that he was bringing me a

Soon though my partial laughter would change into full embarrassment when a question from B & R’'s youngest diverted everyone’s attention from the lounging 8-year-old.
"What is that?" Alex asked as he was looking at the stairwell. I left the kitchen and went around the corner to see what was going on. I saw what Alex was pointing at and walked up a couple of steps to see what it was. A few seconds later, a look of horror appeared on my face.
It seems that a few "pebbles" from Noah's diaper had fallen out, tumbling down (and out of) his pants leg as he made his way down the steps, smashing it into our good host's carpet.
Since I am trying not to use bad words in this book, I won't tell you exactly what I said, but it wasn’t as pleasant as "Sorry guys, but my son dropped it like it was hot all over your stairwell."
I fully expected B & R to be upset. It was bad enough that there was a nearly nude child that wasn’t theirs lounging around on their furniture.
Instead, they laughed. They laughed a