A few days ago, I got up early (like always) with Emma. I sat her down in the kitchen while I prepared my breakfast. At some point I left the room for a few seconds (literally). When I came back, Emma was sitting on the back porch with the cat. She was very happy. I brought her back in and locked the door. I then sat Emma back down in the kitchen with her toys and ran to use the bathroom.
When I got back, Emma was once AGAIN out on the back porch with the cat (all I can figure is that the door didn't lock properly). This time, however Emma was covered in gore. She managed to find the raw chicken liver I tossed to the kitty a few hours earlier that same morning. My little daughter had the liver hanging out of her mouth. Her face was smeared with gore. Her hair was even sticky with it. When she saw me, she smiled and held out the (tiny) remaining piece of liver. I suppose it was an offering meant to placate the look of horror on Mommy's face. She smiled hugely and said, "MMMMMmm!"
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