Blame the dog

My daughter learns quickly.

Last night, my husband Jason and I were finishing our dinner.  Ellie and Poe, our daughter and our dog, were playing together under the dining table. This is a pastime they share during dinner because they're both hoping for some tasty tidbits to fall on the floor.  Yes, we really and truly do feed both our dog and our daughter quite well; it's just that they both think that food is better if it falls off Mommy's or Daddy's plate.

At one point I said to Jason, "Does Ellie have a poopy diaper?  Or is it the dog that stinks?"  He answered, "Poe smells pretty bad today.  I don't know what she got into." I nodded and went on with my dinner. 

A few minutes later, I was clearing the table and caught another pungent whiff.  I turned to Ellie and asked her, "Did you poop?"

Our little fast learner immediately pointed to the dog's rear end and said, "Poe!"

The moral of the story: if you've pooped in your pants, it's best to have a dog so you can blame it for the smell.