Rachel was stealth-snacking on one of those drumstick ice cream treats. I gave her the "caught ya!" look and pointed to the sofa cushion next to her, indicating a piece of chocolate coating that had fallen. She picked it up and popped it into her mouth.
I then noticed a chunk on the floor, so pointed toward it. Again, Rachel picked it up and put it in her mouth. But this time, she started spitting and hollering. Uh . . . it wasn't chocolate. I think it was dirt.
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