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A little girl walks into the lounge one Sunday morning while her dad is reading the paper. “Where does poo come from?” she asks.
The father, a little perturbed that his daughter is asking such difficult questions, thinks for a moment and says: “Well you know how we just
ate breakfast?”
“Yes,” answers the girl.
“Well, the food goes into our tummies,” explains the father, “our bodies take out all the good stuff, and then whatever is left over comes out of our bums when we go to the toilet. And that is what is called poo.”
The little girl looks shocked and stares at him in stunned silence for a few seconds, before asking, “And Tigger?”
The father, a little perturbed that his daughter is asking such difficult questions, thinks for a moment and says: “Well you know how we just
ate breakfast?”
“Yes,” answers the girl.
“Well, the food goes into our tummies,” explains the father, “our bodies take out all the good stuff, and then whatever is left over comes out of our bums when we go to the toilet. And that is what is called poo.”
The little girl looks shocked and stares at him in stunned silence for a few seconds, before asking, “And Tigger?”