This weekend, 'Mater and I were sans kids, as they went to
stay at their Aunt Beezee's house. 'Mater and I decided to do something 'adult'
and went to the rodeo with friends. Adult friends. Who drink and don't need
help wiping their bottoms...yet. Right before the show started, Mr. Muffin made
a comment that we were so close to the arena that we could possibly end up with
debris on us. I wrinkled my nose and laughed it off. That was until the first
bucking horse came out the gate, spun it's rider around, flipped up a piece of
poop that sailed way into the sky and landed on my shoulder, rolled down my arm,
and left a trail of stink on my body.
No kids and I still get poo'ed on.
Luckily, I was already semi-used to being covered in a shit
smell because, just the day before, The Children developed a new game called Butt
Bomb, whereupon someone farts on a piece of paper then wipes the stinky paper upon
your person. And this is why I don't feel the need to buy them lots of toys.
Take one Boy Child, who is gassy, give him some paper, some tape and a couple
minutes alone and they will entertain themselves. Boy Child spends a good
amount of time discussing bodily functions anyway so I'm glad he's managed to
incorporate a game out of his gas.
During the past week, Boy Child has shared his musings
pertaining to gas with me. I now share with you:
1. If
you are in public and can't fart - just hold it in and it will come out quietly,
like a little bubble. The
fart will just slip out your butt like a spy! (His own words, People.)
Boy Child will share this little gem with anyone who happens
to fart in his presence. Apparently, if he isn't the one gassing you out of the
room, he doesn't want to hear it coming from you. In the meantime, I have
purchased several bottles of Febreeze and have limited taco night to every other
week.
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