Pumpkin Pie, Anyone?

My father-in-law and his wife are in town for Thanksgiving. During dinner last night, my girls decided to tell their "stories." They have 2 stories they like to tell, because they think they are funny. Usually, a stranger cannot understand their renditions, because my girls laugh so hard when they tell them.  

The first story is when we were walking to the park this summer, and about halfway there, Lucy discovered she wasn't wearing underpants. The second story is when we were riding in the car and Britney Spears' new song came on. The girls first asked if it was a boy or a girl singing, and then asked if it was a boy or a girl frog that was singing. That's about the extent of their yarn spinning.

Until last night. After we heard the no-underpants tale FOUR times, Lucy piped up with something new. "I'm going to tell a story about poopie." she uttered, in her high pitched mouse-voice.

Matt and I looked at each other- wondering if the other one had heard this before.  Before we could tell her poopie stories don't go over well at the dinner table, she started speaking.

"Once, I was in the bathroom with my Daddy, and I told him his poopie smells like apples."

We are now changing the dessert menu for Thursday.