Thoughts And Prayers To The Spontaneously Pooping Son And His Father

So leaving the baseball Game at the U. last/Saturday night, I stopped by the restroom.  There, there was young boy, maybe 2 or 3, on the Koala Kare bed, and his father in complete apoplexy.  "How do you poop like that?  How??" he was crying in near-agony as (and I didn't look straight at this ... scene) he apparently was using as much toilet paper as possible to, it looks like, wipe the crap out of his boy's ass.

Completely unprompted, he starts venting to me, the only other person in the men's room: "I asked him if he needed to poop.  He said no.  So I tell him to stand outside (I hope he meant away from the stalls; I don't know if it would be wise to tell your young son to stay outside of the bathroom all by himself).  And when I come back, he totally crapped his pants.  And this is like the second or third time today!"

As he told his son, "Man, you gotta get it together," I made my way out.  I didn't know what to say except, "Good luck, man," to which he said, "Yeah, thanks for ..." and he didn't finish his sentence because he didn't really know what to say, either.  "I understand, you have to vent," I said, and I left.

Godspeed to the father and to the incontinent son.