Last night, Kennedy, April, and I were drawing on the front porch with some chalk. In addition to the obligatory stick figures, the smiling sun, the bubbly clouds, flowers, etc. Kennedy drew an oval. She looked at me and smiled:
"Daddy, I draw poop."
"What?"
"Poop. I draw poop."
"That's gross."
"No, Daddy, it's art."
