Once I noticed that her constant chattering had stopped, I thought one of three things: she’s either fallen asleep, making a poop or up to no good. When silence falls for reason 1 it’s blessed; for 2, it’s a relief (my kid is constipated a lot). When it’s for reason 3, I prepare myself for an unholy mess that hopefully does not entail scissors, tampons or the dog.
I quietly looked in on her, stifled a laugh, then asked her what was going on and she said, “Horsey driving then dolly (mumble mumble) diapee rash.”
Looks like Ken was carjacked and then pantsed by a prankster of toddler proportions. He never had a chance.