interpretation

The whisk I'd been using to mix ice cream fell on the floor.

Me:  "Poop!"

Elise, age 3, peering closely: "Is that poop?"

Me:  "No, it's not poop.  I was just unhappy about the mess I made on the floor.

Elise:  "That chocolate, not poop."

Me:  "Yes, you're right.  It's chocolate."

Elise, supremely confident:  "That not poop on the floor, Mama..."