C has finished dinner and is sitting on the couch. N is finishing dessert (2nd helping of that, too) so I'm not sitting at the table with her anymore but getting the bath ready for C. I come back in through the living room, complaining about having to step over the lightsabers and telling them to be more careful about picking up food when it's dropped as I have found something all the way in the middle of the livingroom.
What is it, they both want to know.
I don't know but it shouldn't be out here. We've got to clean up a little better around here!
It looks like poop!
I roll my eyes. Please don't say that, especially while you're eating!
Hey, C! Mommy picked up poop! My eyes stop rolling and start glaring. N looks down. Sorry. She's trying not to laugh. But then, what is it?
In the meantime, C is rolling on the couch. Mommy picked up poop! Bwahaahaa!
I'm on my way to the trash but N still wants to know. They've had cookie-dough ice cream, cookies yesterday, we were outside earlier so it could be mud...it could be anything.
I sniff.
Oh.
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