mikey is my four year old son. he has been fighting a stomach bug for fours days. lately he has the worst gas EVER!!! it's worse then pregnancy gas!!! i know it's not his fault and he can't help it. although, if he could help it, i still don't think he would.
the other night for dinner we had pasta. i don't usually like red sauce on my pasta, so i had pesto.
after dinner is finished and the kitchen is cleaned we have family devotions. so we were all lined up on the couch. i was holding grace in my lap, mike was to my right and mikey to mike's right, during the hymn trust and obey i burped. i did it silently, not even excusing myself!!! and kept right on singing it out. or might i say stinking it out. the return of the pesto. during my silent-song-burp, just on the other side of mike, was mikey, who might i remind you had been gassy all day long. letting a silent but deadly fart out. he too mentioned it to no one, nor did he excuse himself.
mike was doomed. trapped between an old pesto burp and mikey's diarrhea-meets-rotten intestinal-tract-fart. he was almost knocked out and not sure who to blame, or which way to turn for fresh air. it would have almost been funny if not for that stinky fart smell, being far more prevalent then the pesto burp, it took over the whole room, landing on me and grace as well. that night, the windy city, was our living room.
the other night for dinner we had pasta. i don't usually like red sauce on my pasta, so i had pesto.
after dinner is finished and the kitchen is cleaned we have family devotions. so we were all lined up on the couch. i was holding grace in my lap, mike was to my right and mikey to mike's right, during the hymn trust and obey i burped. i did it silently, not even excusing myself!!! and kept right on singing it out. or might i say stinking it out. the return of the pesto. during my silent-song-burp, just on the other side of mike, was mikey, who might i remind you had been gassy all day long. letting a silent but deadly fart out. he too mentioned it to no one, nor did he excuse himself.
mike was doomed. trapped between an old pesto burp and mikey's diarrhea-meets-rotten intestinal-tract-fart. he was almost knocked out and not sure who to blame, or which way to turn for fresh air. it would have almost been funny if not for that stinky fart smell, being far more prevalent then the pesto burp, it took over the whole room, landing on me and grace as well. that night, the windy city, was our living room.
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