Lesson Learned

If you know me at all, and lets be honest, the ten of you do. You know that I occasionally have gas and that I am not one to hold it if I needn't hold it. I can clean it up for social situations, obviously, I'm human - I know when not to pass gas. At home, however, I haven't taken any precautions.

Lately my husband and I have been talking about how we might need to start cleaning our act up a bit if we're going to raise a little girl to be a little lady. Up to this point the closest we've come to being polite about burps or farts is to say excuse me afterward. Occasionally we raz each other about the sound of the other's passage of gas or the foul odor that follows. We really need to grow up, we know this, but sometimes really, what else is there to talk about? We could go days in silence if it weren't for the obviously necessary comments regarding the others stench. Our daughter has, therefore, developed quite a fart sense of humor. In her opinion, all farts, stinkers, or busters warrant laughter. Not good.

Today I learned a valuable lesson in why I need to up my gas passing etiquette. My stomach was in a bad way this afternoon. I have no idea why, I've not ingested anything that would normally cause gas. In any event, I have delt a few gross ones today. My daughter cannot let a smell go unnoticed. Anywhere, anytime. Her line is consistently that same: "Mom somefing smells." We could be walking through a meadow of flowers and she'd use it. The line gets a lot of play lately because baby number 2 poops A LOT.

This being the case, I could EASILY blame the littlest, but I don't. It just seems mean. He already stinks, so its not fair to blame him for odors he hasn't created. This afternoon after changing his diaper my daughter entered the room. She said, "Mom somfing stinks." I said, "Oh." She said, "Its him." I said, "No, really it isn't him, I stinkered." She replied, "You stink Mom" and then giggled while trying to climb my leg. We then proceeded out to the front yard to play t-ball.

I chose the front yard over the back yard because of the dog-poop-booby-traps in the back yard and all the fun outdoor toys are in the garage. We're out there 30 minutes playing, she and I, while Dad was in back collecting the booby-traps. We were engaged in a lovely game of kick ball in our court when one of the neighbors pulled down the street and then into her drive way. She hadn't met our new addition yet, so she came out to chat and see the baby. We both greeted her, chatted a little, and then the toddler continued her kick ball game.

A moment later, while I stood talking to the neighbor, my daughter reappeared at my left to interrupt our conversation with, "Mommy farts." I tried to ignore her and thought, or hoped, the neighbor hadn't heard. But my girl kept talking and the finally neighbor turned her attention squarely on my three year old. "What sweetie?" She restated, "My mommy, her farts." I laughed so hard I nearly farted. The neighbor politely replied, "Kids say the darndest things." I was red-faced and flailing for something to say when the neighbor furthered the discussion with: "Can I teach you a better word for that?" "Sure" my girl says. Neighbor says, "In our house we say 'beaver' 'Mommy beavered' because that is the sound a beaver makes."

So now, not only do I have to clean up my act and show some class, but I've got to delete that memory from my daughter's brain. I simply cannot have my kid running around using the word beaver unless there is, in fact, a beaver around. Gross. Lesson learned.

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