Please don't have more diarrhea

When I read a book or watch a movie, I appreciate when a sort of epilogue is included where they tell you the fate of the characters. Well, the epilogue to the poopy pants story is this:

Nate had been acting fine when we got home from the pool, so we attributed his fussiness toward the end of dinner as tiredness from the excitement of the day. The kids were excused from the table to go play and put on their pajamas. About 15 minutes later, Nate comes racing through the house and into the bathroom...about 10 seconds too late. John followed Nate into the bathroom and had no problem finding his way as there was a trail of brown liquid leading from the hallway outside the bathroom into the toilet itself. John bravely opened the door and found poor Nate in a puddle of rancid diarrhea, but what was worse (yes, it gets worse), is that Nate's colon seems to have exploded and there was shrapnel all over the bathroom. Nate had to be airlifted into the shower and scrubbed, the bathmats and clothes had to be scrubbed, the bathroom floor and walls had to be scrubbed. Little Nate finally got into his pajamas and then had to go to the bathroom several more times until he was so exhausted that he was barely able to hold his head up while on the toilet. However, John's proclamation that, "it's all clear liquid with a bit of sand," was the signal that Nate was nearing the end of his ordeal. He fell right to sleep and woke up in good spirits.

All day today we were careful to serve Nate only foods that would not upset his sensitive tummy: jello, applesauce, dry toast, bananas. Oddly enough, the other kids found these things quite appealing, so they joined in on the tummy-friendly fare.

Fast-forward several hours. I ran an errand and planned to make lunch for the children and John when I got back. What greeted me was tantamount to a chip-eating orgy. There they were, the kiddies gripping Wii remotes in one hand and stuffing Ruffles into their mouths with the other. The carpet was littered with the crushed chips and wrappers (from what?). And there in the middle of the room, was their ringleader, Zena, sitting on the floor grinning ear to ear with a huge bag of Tostitos Lime chips in her lap. When I grabbed the bags back and went to put them in the pantry, I was greeted with a wide open empty bag of Doritos Tacos at Midnight. All I could think about was Nate's stomach rebelling, the grease and spice was surely not going to be welcomed. There was nothing to do but wait.