Since this has inadvertently turned into poop week, I figured I'd share another story.
This time, the names and places have been changed. The only identifying clue I will give you is that I was not the pooper!
Once upon a time, in a land called Cacaville, some little children were in the bathtub. It wasn't a giant bathtub, so the four kiddos were crammed in tight.
They splashed around, yelled at each other to "Move over!" and tried to figure out where to put their feet.
The oldest, positioned at the front of the group, looked down into the water and saw something floating. They didn't have toys, so what was it?
"There's POOP in the TUB!!!"
What happened next was a jumble of flying water and screaming as the children frantically scrambled to get out of the tub without touching the poo.
The mothers came flying into the room and one yelled "Penelope!!!"
The poor little pooper had given herself away by remaining in the tub, silent and pouting.
And now that I've finished my story, I have to say I'm a little disturbed about the whole cramming a bunch of kids in the tub bit.
Those mommas must have been lazy!
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