I’m putting Doodles to sleep in his room. We’re about two-thirds of the way through Harry Potter. Adam is putting Pie to bed–in our room, of course. The rooms are, oh, twenty feet away from each other. Pie, the delicate flower that she is, let’s one rip.
Pie: Oooh, stinky!
Adam: That’s what happens when you toot. What do you say?
Pie: It wasn’t me. It was Doodles.
Adam: No, it wasn’t. It was you. Say “Excuse me.”
Pie: It was Doodles.
I think she’s training for a career in politics.
