butterflies don't do that

Kev doesn't care for pizza. . .normally. He will occasionally eat it, but he NEVER asks for it. A few weekends ago, he asked to go out to "the Hut" for pizza on Saturday night, which is a story unto itself. . .Once I ascertained he was not kidding, was not feverish, and truly did want to eat pizza, I agreed.

On the way, Kady asked what was on the windshield. It was bird poop. (Didn't see that one coming, did you?) We explained that a bird had pooped on Daddy's windshield, which then led to a long conversation. Eventually, the two-year-old tired of learning why exactly (her daddy thinks) a bird poops on a windshield, and she pointed out a butterfly outside her window. Kevin (being himself) began teasing her about her new found butterfly pooping on the windshield. She quickly informed him otherwise. "Daddy, I lub (love) butterflies. Butterflies do NOT poop." Who could doubt the logic in that?