A Mystery story

This morning Preston was the first to wake up, and he went to the living room to watch some TV by himself. I stayed in bed with the dog. About 30 minutes later he yells out, "Mommy! Somebody pooped on the floor!!"

Me: What do you mean somebody pooped on the floor?!?"

P: Well...there's poop on our floor!"

 (A moment of pause.)

Me: "Well buddy, did YOU poop on the floor?"

P: "No...I don't think so."

Me: (now en route) "What do you mean 'you don't think so?' Who else would have pooped on the floor?"

P: "Well....it could have been me, or you, or Bailey."

I suppose it was a pretty reasonable conclusion for an almost-4-year-old. Of course, one would hope that he would have known for sure whether or not it was him. One would also hope that he could have safely ruled out his parent as a possible perpetrator, but I guess I'm giving myself too much credit.

Turned out to be the dog. Which was good. Well, at least as good as it can be when there is poop on your floor.