3-year-old poop. By the numbers.

Still on our Vermont trip and only one deer down. Here’s some random stuff Icepick Junior, age 3, said.

To me and Mrs. Icepick, in a roomful of lunchtime patrons in a diner: “I need to go to the bathroom. I have to poop!”

So pleased with the diner experience, Junior pretended to be a waiter later that evening, complete with a pad and red pen. Upon taking down someone’s “order” of a hamburger with lettuce: “We don’t have any lettuce. We only have numbers.”


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