Friday, March 30, 2012

I'll take spaghetti over poop almost any day of the week. But I'm not a dog.

Circumstances beyond my control (yet completely within my 3 year old's) dictated that E ate dinner alone last night, seated by herself at the kitchen table with Ralph laying close by. From upstairs I heard the following conversation:

E: Oooh, Ralph! What's that? Look what I dropped! There you go, boy. Eat it! It's healthy, and it tastes much better than poop. AND, it didn't come from your bum! You should eat that, and then you won't have to eat your poop anymore!

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