The search for the Missing Turd

Caution:  Don’t read this if poop makes you feel squeamish.  But, maybe you are too curious to skip this one up.  Sorry!

Cara was in the school room reading books quietly while I was on the phone in the living room.  The ladies from Louisiana were all in the kitchen working steadily.  Suddenly, Cara appears, completely naked with her pajamas, warm fleece footed pajamas, in one hand and something else clenched in her other hand.  I quickly end my phone conversation by explaining Cara is running towards me naked and it looks like she is holding poop.  Sure enough she explains, “I pooped Mama.”  Once she reaches me across the room I grab her wrist to verify that she is holding poop in her little hand.  Yep!  Poop it is.  And as I grab her wrist her little hand releases the prize. Luckily the consistency was like play dough.  She didn’t squish it or play with it, but seemed to be just bringing proof of her single statement mentioned above.  I see that it falls, but my focus is on washing her hands immediately so instead of picking up the poo, I wisk her off to the bathroom to wash with soap and water.  Now, of course all the ladies witnessed what I just described.  When Cara’s hands are clean, she passes a close inspection for the rest of her body, and a diaper is donned, I return to dispose of the abandoned turd.   Only I can’t find it anywhere!  Neither can one of the ladies from LA who has been looking for it while I was cleaning Cara.  I am dumbfounded.  As far as I know poop does not bounce or roll across the room.  We search frantically.  We move furniture.  We look under heat registers against the wall.  We even look under couch cushions, just in case it is possible for poop to bounce off the floor and land under a couch cushion.  Yeah right!  I begin to doubt that I ever saw the turd, because it could not have disappeared.  Then I begin to feel panicky, because the men are scheduled to show up soon for lunch after chopping wood all morning.  I cannot imagine making an announcement, “So, guys, be on the lookout for a small turd.  We can’t seem to find it anywhere, but wouldn’t want anyone to step or sit on it.”  Or hear a comment that might sound like this, “oh, yuck, is that poop on the floor?!”  How embarrassing that would be.  Finally, I decide to check the bathroom since that is where I went when it all began.  Believe it or not, when Cara released the turd it dropped right into her footed pajamas that she held in her other hand.  I found it nestled in one of the feet of the pajamas.  It never even touched the floor.