Blast from the Past: Bring the Powder
In case you missed it the first time – here’s a post from the past – July 24, 2009, to be exact. Now that we have three kids (and still two kids in diapers), it’s true more than ever…
Bring the Powder
To be honest, living with two kids in diapers and a big hairy dog, our house can at times smell like a great big fart. We do our best to take bad diapers straight outside to the trash can. We try not to let diapers pile up in the diaper genie. We try not to feed Big Hairy Dog chicken.
But sometimes, things don’t always go as planned. And our house STINKS!
It reminds me of an evening ritual we had growing up. Nick and I would go to bed, and our dad would come upstairs to tuck us in. He would read us books, tell us how special we were and fart. That’s right. Our dad had gas. Bad gas. Stinky gas.
We would yell and scream and demand that he stop. But the more we yelled, the more he laughed, and the more he laughed, the more gas he passed.
Inevitably, we would have to call for mom to “bring the powder.” She’d run upstairs with baby powder and do the “fart fairy” dance while sprinkling baby powder around our rooms.
The baby powder would clear up the smell, and we would fall asleep with visions of the fart fairy dancing in our heads.