I don't know what it is about passing gas that makes my family laugh, but it never fails. We sit down to a lovely dinner, start talking about our days and then it happens. Something ripe and obnoxious fills the air and we play the blame game.
"That was Daddy!", "No way! It was the baby." "Quit blaming the baby, that was you."
And so on until someone finally owns up to it.
There was the time when our daughter was 4 and I caught her with her butt in my laundry bucket.
"What are you doing?"
"Why are you doing that in the bucket?"
And with a big grin she replies,
"It stinks real bad and I wanna' save it for Daddy."
But what can I expect?
She's the same girl who needed to know if fish fart. In case you were wondering, they do. A friend of mine looked it up while she was at work. Can you imagine explaining that one to your boss?
Today, she wanted to know who farts more. Girls or boys?
Even the baby gets in on it. You would think that something that small and adorable couldn't cause much damage right?
There have been many a time he's gassed me out of a room. Or actually had lift off from his seat because of the force. He always gets this little grin on his face before he toots. Not his full-on mega-watt toothy smile. Just a little they-have-no-idea-this-is-coming-and-I-hope-it's-a-good-one grin.
Now our daughter likes to toot on her Dad's pillow. I swear it wasn't me who taught her to do that. :)