Bless Her Heart, And Ditzy’s, Too

I am three years old. We’re dressing up to go to church with my godparents, who are very religious and proper. My father is putting on his dress shoes and doesn’t realize our poodle has done her business inside of one. He puts his foot right in it. I find his absolutely hilarious.

Later, we’re sitting in the church and my godmother is in the pew next to me. Even though the minister is talking, I decide that this is the perfect time to fill her in on the awesome events of the morning.

Me: “Aunt [Godmother]! Ditzy pooped in Daddy’s shoe!”

Godmother: “Shh!”

I think she just doesn’t believe me, so I reply much louder.

Me: “But it’s true! Ditzy pooped in Daddy’s shoe!”

Godmother: “[My Name], hush!”

The minister has begun to speak at a higher volume and people are turning to look at our pew. My mother tries in vain to quiet me and my father is laughing. I am getting mad now.

Me: “Ditzy pooped in Daddy’s shoe! She did!”

The minister starts almost shouting to drown me out. I start shouting, too.

Me: “DITZY POOPED IN DADDY’S SHOE!”

My godparents were mortified. My mother was about to crawl under the pew and hide. My father was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. They finally got me calmed down, and at the end of the sermon, the minister came over to congratulate my parents on having a daughter with such fine lungs.