Passing the Buck. Or Passing Something.

I'm putting Doodles to sleep in his room. We're about two-thirds of the way through Harry Potter. Adam is putting Pie to bed--in our room, of course. The rooms are, oh, twenty feet away from each other. Pie, the delicate flower that she is, let's one rip.

Pie: Oooh, stinky!
Adam: That's what happens when you toot. What do you say?
Pie: It wasn't me. It was Doodles.
Adam: No, it wasn't. It was you. Say "Excuse me."
Pie: It was Doodles.

I think she's training for a career in politics.