"Where undies doe?" And other mysteries

Did you all hear my head explode this morning when I momentarily turned into Rumpelstiltskin, when he found out the queen had tricked him? No? Good; but it's only because you weren't listening. So, here's the story:

Various kids were set in motion on various school subjects. I was helping those who needed help, as they needed it, and things were running fairly smoothly. Then, around 10:00, Clay pooped in his pants. How it's possible for him to go nearly all day dry and clean, when he's wearing a pull-up, but to poop in his undies at the first opportunity, is a mystery to me. But it happens. Every. Single. Time. So, I shooed him off to the bathroom and followed on his heels to provide the necessary assistance. The minute I stood him in the bathtub and pulled his soiled shorts and undies down, all h*ll broke loose in the school room. I left Clay standing in the tub and poked my head out the bathroom door to see what all the ruckus was about. A brief, but serious, conversation with Weston ensued, and when I turned around, Clay had climbed out of the tub, peed on the floor and further spread the filth around. I plopped him back in the tub, gave him the quickest, but most thorough, bath of his life and plunked the foul undies in the toilet for rinsing. But, the issue in the school room was not resolved, so, I left the now clean monster standing on the bathmat wrapped in a towel and called Ruth over for a conversation that turned out to be rather tense and lasted for several minutes. My brilliant parental lecture was stopped short by the whooshing sound behind me, followed immediately by the most sincere and confused question I ever heard:  "Where undies doe?" To quote Ray Stevens, "I turned around, and, a son-of-a-gun, they's gone!" That child FLUSHED his underwear. I am expecting a major septic backup sometime soon. And, I'll just say, for the record, that I have been rinsing poopy undies in the toilet for a whole lot of years, and this was a completely new experience for me. It was then, with my emotions already high, from preceding events, that I turned into Rumpelstiltskin. Which caused Ruth to chuckle and took the zip right out of my lecture. Everyone got back to work, without further incident, and it was business as usual, until lunchtime, at which point another mystery unfolded: the toddler who wouldn't touch his burger at Wendy's last night, ravenously ate his weight in stir-fried carrots and cabbage. And, then, pooped in his pants...