I Drop The F Bomb In Public And Blame It On My Child

Last week, I participated in the Toddle Along Tuesday co-hosted by Growing Up Geeky and my friend Amber at Goin’ Bananas. The subject was on hobbies. I really enjoyed the inspiration for the post so I thought I’d participate again this week and talk about my biggest mommy confession. Here we go…

 I Drop The F Bomb In Public And Blame It On My Child

Not that F bomb, please, I’m not vulgar. I’m talking about flatulence.

Fart | Breaking Wind | Cutting the Cheese | Gas | Cutting It | After Dinner Mint | Stink | Anal Oxide

Don’t act like you’ve never done it.

Having an innocent child who is incapable of defending herself is the most incredible gift to the habitual gasser because of the assumptions that people make when they smell the toxic fumes. They say the average person farts about fourteen times in any given day…I’d say that’s about accurate. I’m not going to deny that I think farts are funny (I have the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy) and there may be nothing funnier than shocking your significant other with a dutch oven.

All kidding aside, I am lactose intolerant and so there have been instances where I’ve let one rip running under the assumption that I would have time to flee the scene of the crime before any shoppers would come into the same area only to have someone come down the same aisle a moment later. In those moments, I’ve made comments like, “Oh, goodness, C! We need to find a bathroom to get your diaper changed” or something to that effect. It happens to the best of us…at least I’m honest about it.

What’s your biggest mommy confession?!

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