This morning I made myself a hot breakfast of an egg cooked inside a peice of buttered toast (you know with the whole cut out of the middle of the bread?). I had just gotten back from the pool working on laps (my triathlon is in two weeks) and I was hungry. Isaac comes down the stairs and says, "I must be turning into a dog because I can smell that all the way up in my bed. And it smells goood!"
After a chuckle I explained nope, you'll always be a boy, no dog.
Now a few hours into the day, I'm feeling pooped from my early swim and so I said that allowed. Beck then says, "You pooooped your PANTS!!???"
Funny.
