It seems that my little boy is about as sarcastic as his dad at the age of three.
Yesterday he and I were making dinner together ,as we always do, and everything seemed fine. He put the water and the butter in the pot. We lit the cube steak in a zip lock bag and he shook it up and then daddy cooked everything.
After it was all done we sat down to eat and little man took one bite of his cube steak, spit it out, looked at me and said "poopy." I explained that he had made it to which he responded "poopy."
It is a good thing that there is always chicken noodle soup around. It always saves us from, "poopy."
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