Yesterday Cash stuck his index finger down the top of my pj pants and underwear, lifted them away from my body ever so slightly, looked at me with curious eyes and said, "Have Poop? Have Poop, Mom?" And although I should have launched into a potty training pep talk, explaining why I don't wear a diaper and why I don't have poop in my pants, I couldn't. I was so flabbergasted all I could do was say, "No, Cash. I don't have poop." But hey, thanks for asking, buddy.