I am used to farts. I live at the firehall with 9 other men for a 24 hour tour and after a five alarm chilli dinner and communal dorms there are no secrets to be had; and at home, I have a husband and a boy to contend with. But nobody... and I mean noboday can drop a rose like my baby girl. Miss Fartsalot will let one go and laugh and continue on while we are left in the wake.
I can't believe I am posting about my daughter's gas.
I need to get out of the house more.
At least until the air clears. ;)
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
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