What are you doing?
I'm ironing my skirt because it has wrinkles in it.
Because it has wrinkles in it.
But why does it have schmuckles in it?
Uh ... it has schmuckles in it because it was packed in my suitcase.
You, me and that baby and that other baby. While I promise to never write about what I ate for lunch or about that dream I had last night, I cannot promise there won't be poop mentioned.