It was all cute peaceful Daddy-time until the potty break began. Tiny feet raced to the potty with cries of "I don't need help!" I waited. Actions occurred appropriately, but no child emerged. Instead, I heard a tiny, fake fart.
"PBBT." *giggles*
More farts. *cackles*
More variety and volume. *intense chuckles*
Pretty soon the bathroom was echoing with a continuous roll of fart-laugh-slobber. It lasted 10 minutes while my mother and I just shook our heads in silent recognition of a dominant gene rearing its clown-wigged head.
Dad: "Come on, honey, it's time to get ready for bed."
Daughter: "But I need to tooty some more."
Dad: "I think you've done a pretty good job already."
Daughter: "Oh. Scooz me. *giggles*"
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2 comments:
I swear the fart sounds are genetic. How is the little tooter? And Grandma? We miss you guys. Happy Halloween!
ah, yes. never underestimate the comedic power of a fart, whether real or staged.
you have no idea how many dinners during my childhood were ended, or interrupted, at the very least, by flatulence.
wow- now you know waaaaay too much about me.
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