Having not come anywhere near mastering the art of ridding his body of waste products in a manner fit to be discussed in public, Little Mister D is none-the-less skillful in his defense of such problems.
Why, just this morning, as Mommy was changing his rather rankish behinder into something fresher, said Mommy oh-so-kindly stated "D, your butt smells like a barnyard."
D, not missing a beat - "I wike Barnwad. I git pig dare."
Yes, the speech has progressed nicely. Or not.
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