That's you, Daddy!

Shannon will have details on our Columbus Day trip to the beach later. For now, there's this:

Yesterday evening we got home from a long, but uneventful, trip back. Emma asked me to come keep her company in the bathroom. She sat down on her little potty and dropped a deuce. A really big deuce. She opened her legs, peered into the bowl, looked up at me excitedly and said, "That's you, Daddy!"

I shook my head and smiled and said, "No, sweetie. That's poop."

To which she replied, with more excitement, "No! That's YOU!"

She was attempting to make clear that this wasn't a case of misunderstanding or confusion on her part. She was saying that this enormous log of shit was me.

Fortunately SLL walked by, stuck her head in and clarified. Earlier in the day, Emma had dropped another deuce, comprised of one small bit and one medium bit. At which point she told Shannon, "The little one is Emma and the medium one is you, Mommy!"

Sigh.