Ink?

Kira: [hands  me a little cup] Here's some ink for you! Drink it.

Me: Okay... [awkward sip] Kira, ink is the dark stuff in pens. We use it to write with. If we drink it, our mouths will turn blue! That's silly.

Kira: ... Just drink your ink.

We're into butts now.

Mary had a butt butt butt, butt butt butt, butt butt butt!
Mary had a butt butt butt, its fleece was white as butt.

Everywhere that Mary butt, Mary butt, Mary butt!
Everywhere that Mary butt, the lamb was sure to butt.

It followed her to school one butt, school one butt, school one butt!
It followed her to school one butt, which was against the rules.

It made the children laugh and butt, laugh and butt, laugh and butt!
It made the children laugh and butt, to see a lamb at butt.

Ridiculous.

An hour after I put Kira down to bed, she's still awake and says she has to poop. I am confident that it is another of her expert tactics at delaying bedtime. I pick her up and carry her to the toilet so there will be no dilly-dallying in the toileting process.

"Hurry up. This is ridiculous."
"Hee hee."
"It's not funny."
"It's a little funny. It's dickle-ous."
". . . Well, I'm not laughing."
"I'm laughing. Hee hee."

If you're curious, I was right; it was a tactic.