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

have had a get together for the last few summers. You already know how one of those events almost turned tragic when Noah thought he was Australian and went on his unauthorized "walkabout". The neighbors bring that up every time we get together for these things, making sure that there are several eyes on Noah at all times.
For 2014’s version of our now annual tradition we again ended up at Brian and Robin's house. I can’t remember if the weather was pretty lousy that day or because it was our turn and C and I didn’t want to be embarrassed by inviting folks into our pit of a home. With our Mormon neighbor's about to move away to greener pastures, B & R got to host again by default.
So like get-togetherness past, everyone was having a good time, with C and I, the memory of the events of last year fresh in our minds, making sure Noah also was having fun without opening the door and walking out. His personality, already outgoing and friendly, had fully bloomed at this point; an 8-year-old who simply wanted to play with the bigger kids in the house. J and B & R's (laziness is back) son Alex , who were big time gaming geeks, while they did enjoy goofing around with Noah, eventually went off and did their own preteen as a geek thing. This, of course, left Noah off to his own devices…a dangerous thing to do.
With no one to keep him busy, Noah started exploring B&L's house, trying to find something to occupy his time. While the good news was that he didn't get out of the house, once again I our preoccupation with having “adult time” made us forget to keep track of something pretty important…taking Noah to the bathroom.
You folks who have sailed along on this ark of ours have seen that potty training and Noah was not the best of friends, so it was important that C or I kept on him so he didn’t make a mess of himself, or anything else. This dropping of the ball would eventually have consequences.
So a little while had passed and C and I went to see what was Noah was up to.

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

"present".
Crap. And yes, that was an intentional pun.
As soon as Noah got downstairs, my nose (and my eyes' it looked like he had a baseball in his pants) confirmed what happened and I let C know that I had to take Noah back across the street to change him. I marched the boy that doesn't like to tell his parents that he has to go to the bathroom to our house to clean him up.
We returned about 10 minutes later to the festivities, and I once again joined the conversation. After about 15 minutes after my return C and I once again looked around to see what Noah was doing.
It never takes Noah long to get into whatever his mind to, especially once he sees an opportunity to do so. What we saw as we turned around was, well, classic Noah 101 in all its glory.
Noah, who doesn’t take long to get comfortable wherever he is, decided to strip down to his diaper and run around like he was created by Edgar Rice Burroughs.
As the rest of our neighbors started to chuckle, my son decided to make himself comfortable, placing his freshly changed self on B & R’s couch and lying down. It was actually about the time of day where he was beginning to get tired, so he figured their couch was just as good as as the one at home, so he decided to crash.
I can't speak for C, but I was stuck between being embarrassed and chuckling at this, because he was being rather cute, as he covered his nearly nude body with a blanked that R eventually gave him so he would’t get cold from the A/C.

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

lot.
While they were enjoying the entertainment that Noah was providing them, C was feverishly apologizing to our hosts. Being the good people they are though, they just waved off, they not bothered that their carpet had brown spots that wasn’t chocolate all over it. A few minutes later I asked for something to clean it with, and I was soon on my knees doing things that I didn’t like doing in my own house.
Noah, in the meanwhile, began to drift off as all of this was going on, a smile on his face as he watched everyone chuckling about his "redecorating" of the house. I, however, was too busy to enjoy in the merriment, since I was too busy trying to get the stink and stain out of our friend's carpet, even though I chuckled silently to myself over how ridiculous the evening had become.
C and I were lucky that we were ever let back in that house after that. Noah is an adorable, cute, smart, and funny kid, but I remember thinking that sooner or later that act of his would eventually grow stale.