Dylan and Caitlyn were lying in bed this morning, surrounded by stuffed animals. Clutching a stuffed Pooh Bear in one hand, Dylan asked me, "Mommy, do we spell 'pooh' P-O-O-P?"
"P-O-O-H", I corrected him, suppressing a smile.
"Oh", he said, pausing to think. "Well, what would happen if it was
I couldn't lie. "Poop", I answered with a grin.
"Ewwww", they chorused, erupting in fits of giggles.
I chuckled to myself as I walked away, went to check on a blissfully sleeping Meghan, and had just gotten comfortable with one of the many books I'm currently reading when I heard the sound of splashing...rarely a good thing, especially when it's accompanied by laughter and hushed voices.
I got up to investigate and discovered Caitlyn, soaking wet, happily dunking Pooh Bear up and down in... you guessed it! ...the toilet.
I should never have said poop.