Last night's bedtime started out normally. After a dozen or so requests to the kids (at increasing volume levels) to start getting ready for bed, they finally got moving.
They schlumphed their way over to the stairs; crabbed the whole way up; bitched and moaned while putting on their pajamas; and complained during teeth brushing, which caused them to spray liquified toothpaste foam all over the freshly cleaning-ladied bathroom vanity.
In the middle of all of the complaining, we hear a "frapppffft" noise.
Manager Dad: "Boy, did you just have gas?"
The Boy: teeheeheehee
The Girl: hohohahaha
Me (to myself): Hey, this is my chance to be Fun Mom for a change! And so inspired by a weekend visit from my dad, I blurted out a rhyme that he used to recite to me when I was a kid. It goes a little something like this:
"A burp is a message from the heart. If it comes out the other end, it's called a fart."
I realized mid-sentence that putting this out there was probably a really bad idea. It was like a a party scene in a teen sex comedy where someone says something embarassing on the dance floor, and you hear that record needle scratching sound followed by dead silence while the crowd all looks at the speaker with a “who is that frigging loser moron?” kind of vibe.
The kids stared at me like I had sprouted a third eyeball, and then started screaming with laughter. And the same kids who have selective hearing and zero short-term memory when it comes to things I NEED them to do, of course IMMEDIATELY memorized this.
"A BURP IS A MESSAGE!" they kept yelling back and forth to each other at top volume, running up and down the hallway and cackling demonically. I started mentally composing one of my now-routine pre-emptive apology notes to their teachers about the poetry lesson the kids would undoubtedly be giving their friends the following day.
And during the next half hour, as we desperately tried to think of something that could get us back on the path to bedtime, MD muttered to me, "I bet you taught them that just so that you could blog about it later."
No, sweetie; I taught it to them because I really am just that stupid.
Thank GOD my dad never taught me "Milk, Milk, Lemonade."
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
From The Department of "What The Hell Was I Thinking"
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29 comments:
Mr. Man has taught our daughters to justify upper and lower gastric issues with "More room on the outside!"
I'm 99.99% sure their teachers would prefer "Excuse me".
Bawhaaa! Reminds me of my son. The hubster refers to dust bunnies as "ghost poop" and the vacuum cleaner as the "exterminator". So when our vac broke down my son and I went Target to get another. My son found the vac before I did and half way across the aisle he proclaimed at the top of his lungs "mom i found the exterminator for the ghost poop" Yes, you imagined right the strange looks I received. LMBO!!
Every once in a while you have to be the Fun Mom--damn the consequences!!
I found my way here from the comment you left on my blog, thanks! I think we might be long lost sisters or something. Your playlist looks eerily like mine. I've enjoyed reading your posts! I'll be back!
You are sure to pay for that move for quite some time, Mom. Very cute, though.
Exactly how long did it take to get them down after that?
As for the Milk, Milk Lemonade .... please don't go there. Please.
During those quiet moments after someone says something stranage we say, "Cricket, cricket". This cracked me up!
i think i might just have to share that with my boys.
i know, i know -- i've been warned.
i can't help myself.
oh you're a girl after my own heart. When i'm giving my kids crap for their poo & fart jokes I am always in my head thinking "Here i sit broken-hearted...."
Since it's dads that teach children to believe bodily sounds are funny to begin with, I think Manager Dad should write one sweeping apology letter to the teachers...something really good that'll at least cover you through the next school year.
Similar to the one I taught MY kids:
'Beg my pardon, beg my pardon from the bottom of my heart, if it came out the other end it would have been a fart'
Oh it was hilarious, the first eighty times...
I'd forgotten about Milk, Milk, Lemonade! Now I'll have to remember NOT to recite that for the kids.
You are never babysitting Zeze. It's parents like you who send your children to school with these horrible messages. They, in turn, corrupt my innocent child. BAH! Away with you, then.
LOL...I think we all have moments like that. The moments where all the hard work we've done to make our children nice and polite is destroyed by our own return to childhood :)
OH MY GOODNESS - found you through a comment on another blog and you are definitely going in my favorites. Hilarious.
And why do Dads get to be the fun ones? moms need to say something crazy every now and then...or even more often than that. Wait til they're 15 and see what they'll share if they know you will listen with a mommy heart!
Listen, my hubs used to sing Do you know the feces man?,(his twisted version of do you know the muffin man)to our son while he changed his diapers. Seriously, I am always so afraid Jack will start shouting out feces when we are in public. But, that's just the way we roll. Love the lymric, babe.
You kill me! My son will think this is the greatest thing ever, but seriously I'd never teach him it before bedtime. You are a wild woman~
I'm diggin' it. All fart jokes and rhymes are a hoot and a guaranteed go-to joke if you ask me. I must remember that one... I've never heard it before.
Much better than "whoever smelt it dealt it" or "Beans, beans, they're good for the heart! The more you eat them, the more you fart!
OMG!! LOVE THIS!!!! The "gas" thing seems to be a normal thing in our house now at night... not to good all the time!! LOL!! Especially when they boys see who can do it louder!! I had forgotten about this one... I will now be the cool and fun mama tonight!!!
I love your blog!!!!!
Audrey
My almost-four-year-old son would love that rhyme way too much. I'll be keeping it to my ownself.
PS: Thanks for stopping by!
I tactical error has been made.
If you don't teach those kind of songs to them, they're just going to learn them from the kids at school! Think of the Kewl Mom points you're racking up.
And a couple more for you, just so you can continue to amaze:
"Diarrhea,(insert noise here), diarrhea, (ditto the above),
people think its funny
but its really brown and runny,
diarrhea (ditto), diarrhea (ditto).
or,
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses
and all the king's men
blew farts.
Please don't thank me!
Farting in any language is just the funniest thing to little kids...especially my boys. They wanted to know what "onara" was...when I said "fart", they both just howled!! it really is a fun word to say...accoring to them!!
The other day, I was chasing my youngest and I said "come here, you little fart." To which he stopped running, turned around and say "I not fart. I burp..." and then he let a belch to beat all belches rip! Ahhhh...that's my boy!
~~sigh~~
Shoot! Now you've got me chanting: beans beans, good for your heart; the more you eat the more you fart.
Feautured: http://tinyurl.com/43ezzb
How is it that a burp is a message from the heart? What message? Is the message content unchanged by the direction of its dissemination?
(Yes, this is the kind of comment you can expect a fart joke to elicit from a philosopher. And no taking off on the term "dissemination," if you please.)
What a great laugh out loud moment! The kids won't remember the bickering but they sure will remember that!
My husband's father, who is as conservative and straightlaced and Hank Hill-like as a live human can be taught my son
"Excuse me for the burp I did
It wasn't very smart.
If it had been the other end
it would have been a fart."
and geoff says this all the time. Six years of this. Thank you Gary for teaching this to your grandson. I could kill you.
My husband is mad because his dad would have smacked the stuffing and not-yet-fully-grown-in wisdom teeth right out of his ever loving skull if he had EVER said something like this.
I guess sometimes grandparents are more fun than parents. I'll keep yours under my hat and teach it to my co-worker's kids. That'll be funny.
I must be an awful mom b/c I taught my 3-year-old the diarrhea song. He thinks it's hysterical!
Then again, this is the same kid who asked the other day if Dear Hubby needed to go number 1, 2 or 3. Three? we asked. "Yep, Diarrhea is number 3."
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