So MHM and I did some fun stuff this weekend, like hanging out with his nieces and nephew for a while on Saturday, including the four-year-old Glamor-Girl I mentioned here. They were all ramming around and being, well, little kids. MHM was lying on the floor in what he called "Hide the Family Jewels" pose: knees up, feet in, pretty much praying that a little foot or book or knee or whatever wouldn't come flying into his most sensitive of parts.
Glamor-Girl went off to do something, I'm guessing it involved the color pink, and when she came back in bounded the very unruly dog that is all legs and feet and tail and takes about 5 years to calm down. Well she got in big trouble for letting the dog out but kept insisting that she didn't do it (very bad liars, 4 year olds). She decided to take matters into her own hands like a detective, pacing the floor, reciting the evidence, tapping a finger to her chin in a very serious manner.
"Well, the door was closed when I was back there. The dog must have let herself out. But she can't let herself out of the bedroom- she doesn't have hands... so it must have been someone else. Who will help me solve this mystery? The mystery of the dog that got out? And the mystery of THE FAMILY JEWELS?"
She doesn't miss much, that one. We convinced her not to go looking for them.