Feast gone awry

Elizabeth's class had a Thanksgiving feast lunch yesterday. I brought the boys of course, and immediately knew there would be a problem.
As soon as we stepped into the class, Dylan refused to follow directions. He wouldn't join the children in the music and movement circle. He insisted on playing with loud toys while the kids did their activities and he was just generally a pain in the rump.
Finally, it was time to sit down to lunch and I was already frustrated and exhausted. Ben sat on my lap and kept grabbing my plate, threatening to spill it. Dylan sat next to me and shredded up two dinner rolls before announcing that he "can't like that" and jumping up from the table and running away.
Then he ran circles around the whole class while everyone else (even the bad kid) sat and ate their lunches.

After about two minutes of that I was done and I scooped up Dylan and we left the class and the feast behind.

I got him out to the car where he started crying hysterically. Sobbing and whining. He was doing that cry where you are crying so much you can't catch your breath and everything you say is one word at a time, all sloppy with crying.

I asked him "What is the matter? Why are you acting up?"
He said. "I. Want. To. Talk. To. Daaaaaadddddyyyyyyy!!!"

Ugh. I called Bob on the phone and Dylan either locked up completely or wailed in his ear. I hung up the phone. Dylan wailed again.
I had TONS of errands to run, so I called my sister in law and she offered to watch Dylan that afternoon. THANK GOD!

As I drove away from the school and toward my salvation, Dylan fell asleep. Of COURSE he was tired! He just burned up 3000 calories screaming and crying and running around sobbing.
Horrible.

When I went back to pick him up, about 2.5 hours later, he was naked from the waist down and wearing his cousins oversized T-shirt.

"What happened?" I asked without really being sure that I wanted to know the answer!

My sister in law told me this story...

"We went to the electric company to pay the bill and visit my dad," she said...meaning my father in law who works there, of course. "While we were there, Dylan peed on a chair."

"WHAT?!"

Apparently, he peed so much that he peed right through his pull up and his pants and all over a chair.

Nice.
Real nice.

Luckily I had just bought a package of pull ups to keep at my sister in laws house just in case of this sort of thing, so he was covered. Literally.