Lucky for my two year old, he already graduated from the 'Family Bed', but poor co-sleeping baby and Daddy! I've always been a fart-giggler, never one to let a fart slip by without acknowledgment - and that goes most of all for my own. You would think that a decade of life sharing would have normalized the natural act - not on your life!
Last night I was reduced to a giggling schoolgirl, unable to stifle the gurgles of laughter each time I let one soundlessly 'rip' - the worst type of fart - silent but deadly. Each giggle gave fair warning to my helpless husband, who tried to defend himself behind his duvet - to no avail!
Talk about laugh! My hysterics were brought on partly by the sheer magnifence of the 'parps' and partly because I was trying desperately not to wake the baby. How could the little tyke sleep through that? I was absolutely mortified and yet utterly fascinated by the putrid stenches I was capable of emitting!
Poor Daddy! If my fat belly, wobbly arse, sweaty arm-pit breasts, teenage acne, swollen ankles and raunchy belches aren't already passion killer enough - I think I'll try holding HIS head down under those sheets for a change! Whoa!
It's actually a rather fortunate weapon to hold for an exhausted Momma - what better way to fend off any unwanted advances? Mother Nature definitely works in mysterious ways, and the after shocks of these 'parps' are likely to be felt for years to come.
Even I wish I could sleep someplace else!
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