File Under Crazy Part 1

So I've taken out some fresh laundry from the dryer and I've taken that laundry to our dining room table where I'm folding it and stacking it so that it can be taken upstairs and put into the proper drawers only that rarely happens which makes my wife extremely happy. And while I'm folding the laundry I look out into the front yard where our dog is rolling around in something. I find it a bit strange because our dog rarely just rolls around in the yard. As he is rolling, his white coat is getting darker and darker. I think that this can't be good, so I walk to the front door to get him to stop and that's where I see my son sitting on the front step, whistling. He's about five feet away from our dog who is rolling around in God knows what and my son is watching him. And he's whistling la de da. I open the door and ask my son what he thinks our dog is rolling around in and my son says he thinks it's poop. Which it was.

How does that work? If I am to give my son credit for having a brain, I have to assume that his brain works something like this. Son is looking at dog. Dog is rolling around in something. What is dog rolling around in? It looks like poop. Poop is filthy. I kiss and pet the dog. I don't want my hands and lips touching poop. Therefore, I should stop the dog from rolling around in his poop. Only none of that happens. Only whistling.