Where’s my spoon?

it is no wonder
where do they come up with this
easy to answer

"Where is my spoon?!" The wee-er one shouted at me. "WHERE IS IT?"
"Where did you put it?" I asked in return.
She looked at me with one of those unfurling Grinch smiles.
"In my poop."
"In your poop?!" cue heart attack.
Grinch smile continues… "Naaaw." Much laughter on her part.
"Well, where is it then?" I ask, settling into a chair, relieved.
"In my…. potty!"
I cock an eyebrow.
She laughs hysterically. "Naaaaaw."
I do my arms up in a "where" gesture.
"My butt! My privacies! Tucker's butt!" Tucker is the dog.

We finally found the spoon. It was on the floor. Butt-free.

Oh, the hilarity of being two. And 32.

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