A Christmas Poop Story

The other morning, Chloe and I had this conversation:

Chloe:  "Daaaaaaaaad!  I'm pewping, and when I'm done, you can come wipe me!"
Me:  <muttering, in the next room> "Oh I can, can I..."
Chloe:  <singsongy> "Daaaaaaaaaad!   Come wiiiiiipe me!"
Me:  "Ok, ok, here I come.  You know Chloe, you're 4 now, and it's about time for you to start taking care of that yourself..."

I arrive to see the usual grab-yer-ankles pose that she assumes, with the brown eye staring at me.  I accidentally look into the pot.

Me:  "JEEEZ, Chloe!  Dang!  That's a MAN poop!"
Chloe:  "I know, lookit that!  I made a big 'C'!  Look!"
Me:  "Wow.  You sure did."
Chloe:  "You know, if this potty was closed, and somebody came in here and opened it, they'd know I did it because it's a C for Chloe!"
Me:  "That's really gross, Chloe."
Chloe:  "Or maybe they'd just think one of the family did it, because C is for Chockley too."

This really happened.  I shit you not.