Princess of Poop (WARNING: DISGUSTING TOPIC)

The past three years of my life (since Ezra's birth) have been filled with massive amounts of poop. I have had poop on my walls, on my clothes and smooshed into my carpet. I have changed poopy blowouts all over Nevada, California and Utah. I have looked at a poopy mess, and cried.
Up until yesterday, I thought my poop experiences couldn't get any worse. I was wrong.

I could expound upon the story, but I'm going to cut to the chase. Here's the scene:

Where: Sweet Tomatoes Restaurant
When: Lunch Time (restuarant is packed)
Who: Jesse, Cami, Ezra (culprit) and Henry
What: Poop Spectacular

Scene starts with Jesse taking Ezra to the bathroom. True to form, Ezra cooperates with number one, refuses to go number two.

Flash forward to the end of the meal. Jesse begins to sniff around. First he checks Henry's bum. After finding no poop, he looks at Ezra's bum. Jesse and I exchange horrified looks. "Let's get out of here!" One of us declares. We gather up our things and begin to get out of the booth. Ezra runs ahead of us a few feet. Then begins to gallop, shuffle and shake. I assume he's walking funky to avoid feeling the poop on his bum. Without warning a baseball sized glop of poop falls to the floor next to Ezra's feet. Completely non-plussed, Ezra continues walking like nothing happened.

Jesse and I stare for a minute in complete shock. There is our child's POOP chilling on the floor of a restaurant! Not just a little poop, but a HUGE TURD staring back at the patrons of restaurant while they are enjoying their lunch.

Fortunately Jesse kept his wits about him, scooped up the poop in a baby wipe and ushered us quickly out of the restaurant. I, on the hand, lost it once the embarassment passed and we were back to our car. Tears were streaming down my cheeks I was laughing so hard. I would claim the title of Queen of Poop, but there has to be someone out there who more fully deserves it. So, here is my official decree: I AM THE PRINCESS OF POOP!