Boys…. That means farts are a big deal. (Gramma O, if you’re reading this, sorry – passing gas is a big deal….) These “barking spiders” are revered in a sick way. They love to talk about them. To make them, to rate them, to tell jokes about them. Gas is good, fun entertainment.
Maybe it’s a girl thing, but I am not as enamored with these gaseous emissions as the rest of my family.
I began to tell them to settle down, to stop screwing around, the usual…. then it reaches the front seat. Dear Lord! Yes! Roll down the windows! Quick!!!! Be quick!
To misquote Phoebe from FRIENDS, “Good God! This must be what evil smells like!” (from the episode with the “mocklate”…)
In the middle of this hullabaloo, it is little Grant who is proudly trying to make himself heard above the din: “It’s me! It’s me! That was me! It’s me!” Good job brothers. You did such a good job of teaching your little brother the value of a stinky gas bomb that he is shouting to make sure he gets proper credit and recognition for it. oy.
While Grant continues to proudly claim responsibility, the brothers continue to “eeeww!” and laugh. Handsome Hubby, laughing while rolling down the windows says, “Geez. If he could, he would climb it and plant a flag on top!”
I am not sure if I had tears of laughter from that brilliant one-liner, or if my eyes were just watering due to the noxious fumes.
I don’t understand these men I live with. And I think they’re all quite proud of our little Stinky.