Maj has been a pain all morning. She seems determined to drive Kallan insane.
Kallan is outraged, “Mom, do something about her!”
“What’s she doing now?”
“She’s singing a song.”
“You sing all the time and you never stop when someone asks you to stop. Deal with it.”
Kallan stomps her foot, “She’s singing a song about farting.”
“Yeah, well . . . you sing songs about poo all the time. Deal with it.”
Kallan sighs in exasperation, “No. Mom, listen!” She takes a step back from me and does a little dance as she sings . . .
“It stinks in here. It stinks like a fart. Somebody next to me let one rip. It stinks in here. It stinks like a fart. Somebody next to meeeeeeee smells a lot.”
Jazz hands!
I don’t answer immediately because I am giggling, and Kallan waves her jazzy hands in frustration, “Do the math, Mom! I am the one standing next to her! She’s singing about me!”
“Yeah, babe. I get it. Is Maj actually dancing and doing the jazz hands?”
Kallan is puzzled, “What? No . . . I added that for drama.”
Snort!
“OK, so where is Maj now?”
“Upstairs in the bathroom singing about how I stunk up the place.”
“Did you stink up the place?”
“It’s a bathroom, Mom. That’s where I leave my stink. It’s rude of her to sing about it.”
“Alright, I’m coming.”
I can hear Maj singing at top volume from the bathroom as I stand at the bottom of the stairs.
“She’s my fart sister! My smaller fart sister! She’s not here anymore but she lingers. She’s my fart sister! My smaller fart sister! She lingers . . . . and she lingers like poo.”
I yell up the stairs, “OK, Maj? That’s enough. Stop singing.”
Maj swings open the bathroom door and pretends to gasp for breath, “Mother, you are lucky I am able to breathe well enough to sing. Kallan poisoned this room.”
Kallan wails in the background.
“Seriously, Maj. That’s enough.”
“I don’t think it is. I don’t think you grasp the severity of this stinkified situation, Mother.” Maj looks over my shoulder and calls to her sister, “Hello, small woman of stink!”
I stare up at Maj, “Hey, Maj? Listen closely.”
“Yes, Mother?”
“You’ve been rude all morning. Either apologize to your sister and stop teasing her, or I will introduce you to . . . the large woman of stink.”
Maj eyes me suspiciously, “What does that even mean, Mother?”
Kallan is hopeful, “I think Mom means she will come up there and fart on you if you don’t behave.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, small woman of stink. Mother is not going to fart on me.”
They both stare at me.
I start up the stairs, “Apologize before I get to the top of the stairs or pay the consequences, babe.”
Maj stands stubbornly, “Kallan is disgusting and she stinks and I am allowed to speak the truth in song. I will not apologize.”
“Two more steps to go . . . you sure about that?”
Defiance sparkles in her eyes, “No way you are going to fart on me. No way.”
I follow her into the bathroom, and she squeals in protest, “Mother! You are insane! Mothers do not fart on their children! AIEIEIEIEIEIEIEE! YOU ARE INSANE!”
Duh.
I drove the girls to school this morning.
As we wait in the drop-off line, Maj turns to her sister and says, “I’m telling everyone how you stunk up the bathroom this morning.”
Kallan pulls on her backpack and answers sassily, “Then I am telling everyone Mom farted on you.”
Maj pauses, “Hmmmm. A truce, then?”
Kallan agrees, “Truce.”
Maj sits back in her seat, “Mother? I still cannot even believe you did that. I am telling Daddy on you.”
“Tell away, babe. He will not even care. Daddy is all blinded by love. Especially today . . . It’s our anniversary, you know.”
“Someone needs to tell that man he is married to a crazy woman.”
“It’s been 21 years, Maj. Daddy is aware.”
“I’m not sure he is. I am telling on you for this farting thing.”
“Tell away, Maj. Daddy loves me, farts and all.”
Maj looks back at me as she climbs from the car, “Then you are both crazy. That’s just great . . . you are supposed to be my role models. Role models of doom, that’s what you are.”
I wave cheerfully, “Bye, Maj! Have a great doomed day!”
Kallan leans forward to kiss me before she climbs out of the car, “Happy anniversary, Mom. Thanks for farting on Maj.”
“Anytime, babe. Have an awesome day.”
The car is so very quiet after they leave.
I drive home with just my thoughts.
Twenty-one years.
Wow.
Are you British? Because I imagine all of this happening with your children having British accents. It’s honestly the only way I can read it.
moooooog35, you came before I did. This is the first time I’ve ever outlasted anyone.
Pop -
You know I love when you arrive quickly.
Moooooog -
We are not British, but guess what?
Kallan is amazing with accents, and lately she has been speaking in an English accent when she argues with me.
It’s hilarious, but difficult to capture here on Pretty All True, so I have not made much mention of it.
You are all psychic-al!
Tried to call your bluff did they? They’ll know better. How stinky was it? It must’ve been pretty horrid if it caused a truce like that.
Pop -
Maj should sooooo know better than to call my bluff.
And it was actually louder than it was stinky.
Which meant Kallan heard it from the hallway . . . hence the truce.
YAY!
Hee hee.
Happy Anniversary.
Thanks, lovely you!
I’m not the only mom who farts on her children! Yay!
Also, 21 years – Congratulations!
Roxanne -
It’s not part of my normal arsenal of parenting weapons, but this morning?
I had to pull out the big guns.
What?
Happy Anniversary! Congratulations on 21 years and two amazing girls.
If I had been in that situation, I would have seized up, unable to perform. It’s just my luck.
And I love the telling dad part. My mom would always reply to that with, “Not if I tell him first!” Oh, that pissed me off as a kid (and a daddy’s girl).
Mary -
Thank you!
Although I did actually fart on Maj (or close to her, as she was all squirmy with horror), it would have been enough to just pretend.
Kallan would NEVER have believed that the fart noise she heard was me making a raspberry sound.
Snort!
From now, I may refer to you as the Large Woman of Stink.
Except that Kris totally suits you better.
Yet another example of amazing parenting skills. Well played. I had to go back and re-read–felt sure Kallan was the one singing in the bathroom! Maj seems to be loosening up in her old age. Well, until you threaten to fart on her.
Happy anniversary to you and to Mark! I hope you get to go out sans small stinky people and enjoy yourselves. 21 years is quite an accomplishment (especially when at least one party is insane).
Hoping that I can be every bit the role model of doom for my own kids that you are to yours,
Angie
Angie -
Maj has her moments. She is capable of singing a torturing song of flatulence with the best of them. Maj sees a very near future in which she is a 7th grader (and moves to Junior High) while her sister is a 5th grader and stays in Elementary School.
Maj is feeling all sassy.
Payback is a bitch, though.
She forgets that.
ahahahahahahahaha. Step 1, I love that y’all are comfortable enough for bathroom humor. I come from a House of Bodily Function Repression and I admire female comedians who can Go There. Step 2, I love that Maj’s songwriting vocabulary includes Lingers. She is a bathroom-based Cole Porter. Step 3,
AUGH, step 3, CONGRATULATIONS. We love you too, farts and all :)
We are all about the potty humor over here, and our stupid flatulent Labrador makes farting a topic of everyday discussion.
Sigh.
And Maj’s vocabulary is immense.
Even when she is mocking, she is filled with fine words.
And 3? Thank you!
Love you back!
LOL, you are too funny lady! Your posts are either hysterical or poignant, sometimes both. My wife has assaulted our children with gas before, to the point that me, the 270lb 6’2″ man of the house does the least amount of farting. She and our two kids (son 10 and daughter 8) outdo me every time, it’s a game for them.
I’m going to read this post with all of them tonight, laughter will be had by all, thank you for your efforts!
Dave -
Oh, I like you!
Have you commented before? I don’t think so.
Do I know your wife?
BECAUSE I LOVE HER!
Tell her I said so.
Been lurking for a while, first time commenter. I’m convinced after reading your posts that you and my wife would be BFFs!
It is lovely to meet you!
Your wife sounds awesome.
Happy sighs at a new friendship . . . I will try to behave and be appropriate.
Or not.
Ahem.
Happy anniversary!
Thank you, Whitney!
Hmm. My husband usually has the job of farting on pets & children. I will let him know that it could also be utilized not only as a form of entertainment but also as an effective means of punishment. Hehehe
The jazz hands for dramatic effect? Genius.
Also, Happy Anniversary! April is a good month. I will have wedding anniversary (1 yr) in 11 days & birthday 5 days after that. You & Mark have good taste, IMHO.
I’m not sure the fart-threat is as useful on boys, just so you know.
The boys I know delight in farts of all kinds and scents. Boys are weird.
Kallan is AWESOME with her dramatic dance and jazz hands . . . that girl kills me.
And yes . . . April is a very good month.
You have good taste as well.
When you first had the jazz hands in there I was like “Wow! Maj does jazz hands too??” Then you had the whole jazz hands question sequence in there. It made me all giggly.
That’s hilarious!
Yeah, I had to ask . . . Maj is not a girl who throws up jazz hands.
Snort!
Were you listening in at our house? Bwah-haha.
I so LOVE when I post something and everyone is all, “Hey! I do that too!”
That’s awesome.
Swoon!
Happy anniversary!!
Earlier this week, we had dinner at my inlaw’s house and it included things such as sweet and sour cabbage, mixed veggies (including broccoli, corn, and cauliflower). We were all musical in our house the next day, and my boys were in heaven.
See?
The boys I know are also all fart-entranced.
Boys are weird.
Adorable, but weird.
For me, living in a house-o-boys is sometimes interesting, farts & all.
Although, I do love it when I can let one rip & have The Boy cry out “Daaaaadddyyyyyy! eeeewwwwww!”
tee hee hee!
Shawna -
At our house, it is always the Labrador’s fault.
It actually usually IS her fault, but even when it isn’t, we totally blame her.
She doesn’t mind.
@rolemodelofdoom should be your new Twitter handle. I’m taking @smallwomanofstink.
Duffy -
I like my Twitter handle, but those are both AWESOME.
Somebody needs to use those and then follow me!
That would be fabulous!
I am impressed. I can never fart on command. Only when it is very embarrassing. Then stinky cats come in handy. Because? It was always the cat.
Also I need to remember that one must always use jazz hands when demonstrating something awful that another has done. I am feeling the need to add more drama into my life. It has been very boring lately.
Or? I could borrow your kids. :)
Happy anniversary! 21 years especially with crazy kids and dogs takes a miracle. Or a really great sense of humor and a lot of work.
:)
Lizzie -
Just so we’re clear? I cannot fart on command. I would not have made this threat if I wasn’t confident that I could make it happen. Ahem.
And yes! Jazz hands make everything more dramatic. I do love that girl.
As for the other?
No miracle here.
Lots of laughing, though.
That helps a lot.
Yay!