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
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
 
 

 
 Posts
Posts
 
 
No comments:
Post a Comment