He shook his head.
“Okay. I’ll do it.” I stirred it and offered him a bite.
He hesitated before parting his full lips. At first, his nose scrunched in a sour expression, but then it softened, and his eyes widened as he smiled.
“It takes a second for the cinnamon and sugar to sweeten the tartness.” I laughed. “I usually let it sit for a while, but I know you’re hungry.” I held the bowl in front of him and offered the spoon.
Over the next ten minutes, Josh slowly ate it, and I was dying to call Erin and tell her about my hot neighbor.
“I have to poop,” Josh whispered, leaning to the side and pressing his hand to his butt.
“Poop?” I lifted my eyebrows.
He nodded.
“You need to go poop?”
Again, he nodded.
“Oh, okay. Um …” I lifted him off the counter and led him to the bathroom under the stairs. “Do you do everything by yourself?”
He looked at me like I wasn’t speaking English.
“Can you get your pants down, get on the toilet, and wipe all by yourself?” I had worked many summers with kids at vacation Bible school. And not all kids his age were proficient at pooping independently.
“I’m a big boy,” Josh said.
I grinned. “Of course you are.” I turned on the light. “Let me know if you need help.” He closed the door, and I waited for him to finish, which felt like forever.
“Are you okay in there?” I asked with my arms crossed over my chest while pacing the hallway beside the pocket door.
“Yes,” he replied in a soft voice that I barely heard.
A minute later, he flushed the toilet, and a few seconds later, he mumbled, “Oh, shit!”
Did he say “shit?”
I cringed, recognizing the sound of the incomplete flush. “Josh?” I said his name while slowly opening the door.
He finished pulling up his pants as the toilet water rose to the top with a ton of toilet paper mixed with a couple of turds. “Oh, jeez!” I lifted him onto the vanity. “Uh, wash your hands while I grab the plunger.”
I ran to the basement, a musky dungeon where we kept a few things like the plunger and old cans of paint. The stairway was filled with cobwebs, and I hated going down there, but Ihad no choice. When I returned to the bathroom, Josh had half the bottle of soap pumped onto his hands, the water running full blast, and the sink filled with bubbles. But I didn’t have time to worry about that because the toilet was on the verge of overflowing. Luckily, it stopped running right as it reached the rim.
God was good.
As I dipped the plunger into the toilet, the water breached the rim and ran down the sides onto the floor, along with soggy toilet paper and a turd. “Crap, uhcrud.” I wrinkled my nose, quickly jumping back to avoid getting my shoes wet.
“Oops,” Josh mumbled, eyes wide and unblinking.
I glanced over my shoulder at his guilty face.
“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.” It was all his fault, but I didn’t want to make him cry.
Leaving the plunger in the toilet, I lifted Josh off the counter and abandoned the mess. “Let’s go back to your house.”
He took off running when I set him down outside our front door. I jogged after him through the orchard, down a hill, and up another.
“Hey, did you get a snack?” Kyle asked, closing the back of the moving truck.