Saturday, June 9, 2012

Crop Dusted.

Dear Diary, 


     You know that moment...when you're nursing the babe...and your two rowdy boys decide to come hang out with you...and then all of the sudden something stinks...and your super CSI skills lead you to discover it was your husband (after an accusation by you and then a confession by him)...and seconds later you hear a super loud pant-shredder kinda noise, but it didn't come from either boy, it came from your little, dainty, pink-toe-nail-painted 4 1/2 month old? Yeah, that happened to me yesterday. I was getting gassed out of the room while trying to do a good thing. What can a mom do to get some respect around this joint? 



     It's alright guys, no worries. I have my fair share of gassy moments. My husband likes to laugh at me because I'll do something like toot or burp and then his over-the-top OH MY GOOOOOSH expression leads me to dust off the blame and let him know that I am a lady. I don't do that sort of stuff. HA. 

     Here's to hoping your weekend involves less gas than ours. That probably won't be hard to do. We could probably fuel a small country with all of the natural gas floating around this facility. 

Sincerely, 

Me. The gasser and gassee. 



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