Because I don't have children of my own, my brain immediately goes to the only thing that's sort of similar. I mean, they're both dependents. Same thing.
Her: Little Johnny loves eating Cheerios.
My thought: OMG, Smokey totally does that too! (Smokey LOVES him some Cheerios. Remind me to tell you about the time he damn near ripped my finger off because I was too slow giving them to him.)
Her: Suzy got poop all over herself.
My thought: Ugh, don't you hate that? I had to give Smokey a bath a few times because he got poop all over his tail.
Sometimes, I try to "one up" them.
Her: Shaquanda can walk now!
My thought: Smokey sewed me a ball gown yesterday. Found him this morning dyeing shoes to match.
I tend to keep my thoughts to myself because I'm sure people don't want to know that talking about their children made me think about my dog. I figure they'd be kind of insulted.
(I have one more row to knit on square number 7 of my afghan. It looks just like the one I posted before, so I won't include a picture.)