It didn't end until after four. No food. No water. No break. No mini-weekend.
Last night, we went to the elementary school ice cream social. In the parking lot on the way home, Son #1 let out the worst gas ever known to mankind. Even with all the windows open, I thought I was going to die.
Son #1: Now I'm glad Jack didn't come home with us. But doesn't it smell like Toaster Strudel?
Hubby: Not like any Toaster Strudel I've ever smelled.
Son #1: Well, that's what happens if I eat Toaster Strudel or white powdered donuts. The other day, I let a whole series of these go during class. And today I popped off a big one during lunch.
Can life get any better than this? I guess that's what happens when you can't blame the dog.
On a related note: are little girls like this?
3 comments:
One of my nieces could probably rival your son. And she is SO proud of her abilities!
Don't let my boys know. They're under the firm belief that girls don't do those sorts of things!
little girls are like this. unfortunately. they think the "toots" and burps are HILARIOUS, and Charlotte likes make up lots of songs in which the characters are all pooping.
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