"Girls don't fart!" Danny told me this back when we first met... 7 years later, and he still insists that it's true! I just agree with him... it must be true! Except that somebody forgot to tell Gracie that... and they probably should, since she's a girl!
Danny is a boy... so he's allowed to fart. And he takes advantage of that. We have a rule now that he can't fart at the table, because he was getting way too much amusement out of the fact that it reverberates and doubles in sound when you hold on to the wooden chair really tight when you fart. I also have a rule that there is no farting in bed. He doesn't follow that one. I have walked into the bedroom to wake him up in the morning and have been slapped in the face by a wall of stench. Last week he woke me up out of a dead sleep and I had to leave the room, in the middle of the night, because the fumes were making me cough and cry. By the way, if you want to hear a good Catholic girl curse... wake her up in the middle of the night with a smelly fart. I was not impressed! And that bastard slept through the whole thing, and laughed extra hard when I described the situation to him in the morning!
It amazes me how much Gracie is like her father! Almost everything about her is Danny, through and through. And the older she gets, the more I realize it. She is no more like her father than when it comes to her bodily functions. That girl can let one rip!! Sometimes when Danny and she are sitting at the kitchen table waiting for supper to be served up, I will hear this God-awful roar come from their direction. When I look over, they're both smiling and giggling a little. I never know which one of them it is. Of course, Gracie is at a disadvantage at this age, because Daddy immediately says "It was Gracie!" And the sad thing is, at least half the time, he's probably telling the truth!
Last night, Danny was at work, and it was just the little girl and me in the house after supper. I was doing dishes, and she was laying on her back on the floor, with her feet against the cupboards, reading her books (she's a nerd, all she does is read!). She let out the loudest fart ever, and immediately looked at me (a little terrified I think) and said "Moooom? Moooooom? What's that?" I said "my heavens, little girl... that was an awfully big fart." To which she replied, "Oooohh... poop! Poooooop!" And then she smiled. Nothing makes her happier than a good, loud fart!
When I was pregnant with Gracie, and I heard she was a girl, I imagined all sorts of things... pretty bows, tea parties, little pink dresses, dolls, cupcakes. Never in a million years did I imagine she would be the mini-version of her flatulant father. *sigh* Someday she'll learn though... girls don't fart!! :)
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