We don’t really talk about it in mixed company, but you know, we all fart (except me…I don’t fart, and I don’t sweat – I’m far too lady-like for that…hah!). Some people try to blame the dog, or “barking spiders*,” or even their babies. Based on recent observations I think the baby is the most believable scape-goat.
Lucy farts, loudly.
And boy can she drag those suckers on and on and on.
Adam and I have found ourselves, after an impressive windy display from Lucy, looking at each other in amazement. “Was that you?” we ask (and of course the answer as it pertains to me is “no” because, like I said, I don’t fart). How that much sound can come from such a tiny little tuckus I will never know. Is it our fault? Have we failed to burp her sufficiently? If so, does that make us bad parents?
I suppose the last question doesn’t matter much because, I’m sure, when Lucy is 14 or so, if she finds out I wrote about her prolific farts on the internet she’ll be convinced I’m a bad parent.
UPDATE: A little bit after I posted this I looked down at Lucy (who I was holding) and I swear she was giving me a “Mom, you are such a jerk. How could you write that about me?” look. Then she farted.
*You have Adam to thank for that particular phrase…Adam; the man who calls his little brother up when he thinks of a great new term for farts. Adam; the man I love (in spite of or because of his odd sense of humor, I don’t know).