Bryan and I were having a quiet, end of day conversation when there was a soft tap on the door. It was so soft that, when I opened the door just to check, I was almost surprised to see Mason standing there in his pajamas.
"Mom," he said, "Nolan just peed on his pillow."
My mouth dropped open and I just stood there, speechless. Mason must have felt that I needed confirmation because he nodded his head briskly, as if to say "Yes. It's true," before pulling the door closed.
To help you understand my complete disbelief, you should know that Nolan was tucked into bed wearing a pull-up under his footie pajamas. The amount of work required to accomplish the stated misdeed would be considerable for a not-quite-three-year-old who can't always get his elastic-waist pants down in time.
Finding my voice, I pointed at Bryan, "Tag. You're it."
He graciously went to investigate the pillow and returned with the report that the pillow was indeed wet, but did not smell of urine. (Bryan has the most sensitive nose on earth.) A upturned cup nearby seemed to justify his theory that the wetness was harmless.
An odor of urine in the room warranted additional sniffing. This further investigation revealed a puddle in an old army helmet. When questioned, each boy pointed to the other, but the circumstances (see aforementioned reference to pull-up, footed pajamas and toddler dexterity) suggest that it was NOT Nolan. Which leaves me wondering, why did the guilty child bring the topic of pee to our attention in the first place?