A couple of nights ago Wayne was giving Marissa a bath while Lindsey and I were still downstairs playing indoor hopscotch. (It can be done, especially in Minnesota!) Lindsey suddenly announced that she had to go potty and ran upstairs to the bathroom Wayne and Marissa were in.
From downstairs I hear her enter the bathroom and announce her intentions. A few seconds later, I hear Wayne say loudly, "Lindsey, are you going poop? Don't go poopy while other people are in the bathroom! We don't want to smell your poop. Go use the downstairs bathroom. Oh, ugh, P.U!"
To which I hear Lindsey's musical voice reply, "Toooooo late!" as the toilet flushes.
I hear the water in the sink run, then down she comes, skipping down the steps, ready to resume our game with nary a care of the stinkbomb she just left in the bathroom for Marissa and her daddy to smell.
I laughed my ass off.
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