So we went to Ireland. (More on that later.) Patrick stayed with his grandparents. When we returned, my mom said, "I don't know if he'll do this at your house, but if he says 'poop' it's because the kitty pooped on the porch while he was here." We have our litterbox for our kitty in the upstairs bathroom and Patrick already knows it's the "yucky kitty" room, but yesterday, he gleefully pointed to the room and announced, "POOP."
"Oh," I said, "did the kitty poop?"
"Uh huh. POOP."
"Well, Daddy will have to clean it up."
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Daddy will clean it up."
Patrick looked at me, then looked down the stairs toward where his father was watching TV on the couch, then belted out, "HONEYYYY!"
I cracked up so he did it again later. It was hilarious.
