Who Cut The Cheese?

Anyone who has kids has probably read Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

If so, you might recall a scene in one of the books when Greg Haffaley is away on school camp – at bedtime in a room full of people.  He needed to fart so he quickly got up and walked behind a curtain to let it rip.

On our plane to Bali earlier this year, there was no such curtain.

It was a full plane.  

I had nowhere to hide  (other than perhaps the toilet but there was no time for that).

“Ewwww Mum, you farted!!!” Mr O announced very loudly to the cabin full of passengers.  

AWKWARD!  Don’t you hate it when your kids start to understand (and perversely enjoy) the embarrassment they cause you?

“Ewwww Mum you farted again!” he screamed a few minutes later.

Then...

“Mum stop farting, you STINK.”

It’s not my fault.  I take after my Dad.  His friends used to call him “Bugle Bum” – that’s how loud his farts are.  Someone actually gave him a Bugle for his 40^th Birthday.

I had to take Miss G to the natropath last week (Mr O in tow).  Deanne the natropath asked Miss G a series of questions about her diet, does she ever feel bloated, does she do stinky farts?

“No… but I know someone who does,” Mr O interjected… pointing at me.

Sometimes I hate that kid.