the curious case of the poopy screwdriver

Last week I had quite the experience... I doubt I'll ever forget this one, but it's goin down in the books just in case!

It started out a day just like any other - Emmett and I were going about our morning routine. I fed him breakfast, checked my email while he caught up on a little Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and did some quick picking up. Not too long after, Emmett did his business (if ya know what I mean), and I gathered the changing supplies. After the diaper had been changed, I set it right next to the door. *NOTE: I normally ALWAYS take poopy diapers outside immediately because I hate having that smell lingering around the house. But on this particular day it was freezing and I wasn't dressed - so I figured it would be okay for 10 minutes while I jumped in the shower

15 minutes later...

Emmett and I had finished showering/bathing. I threw a diaper on him and sent him back out to the living room to play and watch Disney while I got dressed.

3 minutes later...

I've thrown on some clothes and I walk back into the bathroom to get ready for the day. I hear Emmett yanking at something in the hallway and shrieking in escalating frustration. I find that he's dropped his toy screwdriver into a shapesorter toy and can't get it to come back out (imagine that). So I assuage his little outburst, explain that I'll get it out and everything will be okay, and pull it out for him. Only when I hand it back to him....I notice the tip of the screwdriver is covered in some type of brown substance. Is that chocolate? What is it? Where did it come from?  
Then I proceed to do what any mom of a toddler would do... bring it to my nose and sniff. Whoa. Definitely not chocolate. Definitely poop, and I'm feeling that rising wave of repulsion in my stomach. Had he touched it? Did he go the bathroom again? He must have. And he must have stuck the screwdriver down into it... I pull his diaper and take a peek in the back, only to find he's clean as a whistle.

Lightbulb!

Then I remember! I didn't set his diaper outside! I jump up and run back out to living room, where I'm stopped dead in my tracks. My entire living room floor is scattered with turds. I stand there calculating what this means: He definitely had touched it. Did he put any in his mouth? What should I do? ... Oh no! Emmett's walking back out here, I have to hurry and get this cleaned up before he steps on one and smashes it into my carpet!
I quickly grab a wipe and start using it to gather up the scattered pieces of poop. As I'm frantically picking them up, while simultaneously keeping on eye on Emmett's feet to avoid disaster - my eye catches something.

What is that?...

Emmett is constantly getting into the xbox drawer of our tv stand and playing with the controllers. He loves taking off the battery compartment and emptying out the batteries, then replacing them and closing it back up. Only today I notice the battery he's putting back in has poop smeared all down it.
Are you serious? I've already been on the verge of throwing up, and now this?
I get a new wipe and use it to take the battery and compartment from his hand. As I'm wiping the battery down a thought occurs to me. He was in the middle of the putting the battery in - had any poop gotten on the inside?

I peer down into the little compartment

Actual vomit. Rising up in my throat. The good news is the sides hadn't been streaked with poop as I was afraid of. The bad news is - the slots for batteries had been replaced with packed Emmett-poop. My mind reeled, picturing what had happened.
Emmett had taken out the batteries, picked up a turd (or two?) and dropped it down into the little cylinder. But apparently it didn't drop down as far as he pleased, because he then proceeded to take the aforementioned battery and ramrod it back down the cylinder - successfully packing his poop in the bottom half of the tube.

Jared was going to kill me.

"Sorry hunny, the controller doesn't work anymore. The battery compartment is packed with poop."

I swallowed down the bile that was rising in my throat, and forced myself to act. And by "act" I mean layed a paper towl on the counter, placed the poop compartment on it, then posted my dilemma on facebook asking other people I should do. (unfortunately out of the 15 comments I received, none offered any words of wisdom, but all found laughter in my traumatizing predicament). I couldn't even muster up a plan of action - How would I get it out of that little deep hole? Could the thing even get wet? Was it ruined?

So I made my own decision.

That poop compartment would remain there untouched until Jared got home from school. (Mostly because I didn't want to touch it, but also because I knew he would not fully understand my description of it being "packed with poop" until he saw it for himself.

* I also would like to note the my feelings during this whole scenario went like this: repulsion upon finding the screwdriver, despair and verge of tears when picking up the scattered poop from the living room, then hysterical laugh-out-loud laughter to point of actual tears while deliberating a plan of action for poop-pod. (It cannot be said whether the last stage was characterized more by the laughter or the tears).

Long story short

Jared returned home that evening, took a look at the specimin - and too started laughing until his eyes watered. What had inspired our baby to do this?! In a matter of minutes?!

24 hours later, after a long soak in hot water and some intervention with toothpicks and rubber gloves.... the compartment was rid of poop (for the record, Jared did the dirty work. That's how much he loves that xbox).

...Buuuut we still couldn't stand to think about it. So it sat on the counter for another 24 hours.

I'm glad to report - today the controller is poop-free and working like a champ. I, on the other hand, have learned Emmett is capable of even more than I gave him credit for in 3 minutes time (and that's saying a lot - I know this little rascal and stay on top of him like a hawk).

I will leave you with this:

The curious case of the poopy screwdriver?? Never solved. We will never know the fate that poor little Black & Decker suffered. But I will certainly have the aftermath ingrained into my memory forever. :-)