Poop

At 8:50 a.m., Cassie comes down and alerts me that she needs to go out. I put on a trench coat and take her out. At 9:00, my husband comes down the steps.

Me: You missed it. I just took Cassie out. She pooped and everything.

Austin, to the dog: You pooped! What a good dog!

Me: She’s already been given a treat.

Austin, looking at the coat: Are you cold?

Me: No, I didn’t want to get dressed and I also didn’t want to terrify the neighbors with in my pj’s, so I grabbed the trench coat.

Austin: I think you’re lying. I think you’ve become a crack detective who solves intricate murder plots.

Me: Really too bad you didn’t come down a few minutes earlier, because you and Cassie are both full of poop.