Spring broke

Approximately 6 am

*farting noises*


I was really hoping the culprit would cease the bathroom humor.

*back to back farting noises*

*multiple farts going off nonstop”

I jump out of bed in search of the one toy I knew this to be and the only child that would be awake that early.

My 3 year old nephew who sometimes stays with us during the night.

He sat there holding a Minions Fart Blaster Gun. Available on Amazon here and pictured up above.

I grab it and put it up high.

Normally the fart blaster doesn’t bother me. There’s just something about SIX AM!

The fart blaster though, one of my better investments in a child’s toy. I bought it getting ready for Christmas thinking I’d give it to one or both of my children.

I bought it off Amazon just like everything else I buy. It’s become an addiction.

It arrives. I open it and begin blasting off on the trigger.

My eyes lit up like I was a 12 year old boy finding his version of a gold mine. This was no simple toy that could wait for the world to see it. It had to be shown to my children immediately and played with then and there.

And the rest is history.


This evening we all sat in my sons room.

My husband made my sons bed while he jumped around like a wild man.

”Peyton put on your diaper” my husband says.

”no I don’t have to!”

I come in “he’s not wearing diapers at night now but you have to go use the potty before bed.”


”Peyton you have to go potty or you’re going to pee in your bed.”

“No!” He loudly demands.

I look his direction making eye contact, tilting my head forward, one eye brow raised, one furrowed, hands on hips.

He meets my eye contact and raises me a scrunched nose and a side ways smirk.

He counts to one before I’m able to as if we were in a draw for our weapons.

”One!” He wags his finger at me.

“Two! Three! No more tic tacs the rest of the evening!”

He sarcastically mocked me!!

Dished out his punishment, like- try it lady!

Now he’d done this to me before on numerous occasions but never had my husband seen it.

So my stone face of a husband who barely cracks a smile for most occasions, giggles “he knows his punishment”.

I turn to hide my face while I attempt to fight the laughter rising in my throat. Amazingly when I turn around Peyton marches to the bathroom without any further arguments. Maybe he had to go too bad to hide it.

My daughter began with the copying game. You say something I repeat it. Going back and forth between mimicking my husband talking and my giggling, my husband says “damnit”. Her eyes lit up “damnit!”. I roll into a new fit of laughter.

That was our back to reality day after Spring Break. And it was cold. Too cold and miserable.


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