As I'm trying to have my quiet time before the kids get up this morning (that elusive goal), Rosie comes padding down the stairs and climbs up into my lap and wraps her arms around my neck, breathing her fragrant morning breath into my face:
"Mommy, I wike you. You are my girl. You are cozy."
pffbbtt (fart sound)
"I'm poopin' on you."
I rapidly, but gently, push her off my lap and she bends over to inspect my thighs.
"Are you poopin? Is there any poop on you?"
And so vanishes my morning quiet time. We'll have to try again tomorrow.