My boy's one fart smeller.

In the bath tonight, the Munchkin was idly splashing in the tub when he farted. It was an impressive emission, the kind of fart that would have received some serious laughter and high fives if it had occurred in a room full of guys drinking beer or in a Farrelly Brothers movie. Surprisingly, I didn't laugh. Not because I'm the kind of girl who doesn't like a good fart but more because I was sort of stunned by the loudness and length of it. I began to wonder how I missed the trumpet Munchkin had stuck in his butt when I washed him only moments earlier. And somehow, the water had not muffled the roar of his gas but amplified it so it echoed in the tiled acoustics of our bathroom.

But to sweeten the deal for the Munchkin, it created all kinds of bubbles. So many that after fart had left his tiny little body, he stood up suddenly and proceeded to bend over to try to look at his own butt. It is fair to say that he did not succeed but he did stretch much further than I would have estimated in the trying. Once he raised himself back up, not finding anything different about his booty, he looked up at me with an expression of such joy and wonder. I imagine that he was just marvelling that his body could create such magic.

No doubt about it, my boy definitely takes after his father.