"Did you poop?" "No," my daughter answered. Over her left shoulder I could see a pile of brownish baby exhaust creating a costly stain on an (once) off-white glider in her bedroom. "Isn't that poop, Miel?" "Yeah," she answered, scanning my face for a reaction. One last try: "Miel, did you poop?" A moment to think, then a brilliant response: Pointing to her diaper, she looked dead in...
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