Like other members of our fabulous, male-dominated family, Little E is never short on gas.
Not the $3.79/gallon type, but the type that clears rooms.
At first I would ask Little E if that was him making all that noise.
He'd look at me and smile.
And he always owned up to it. He was proud.
But then things took a turn towards weird.
I've noticed recently that anytime anyone within earshot passes gas, Little E is the first to claim it.
Then it hit me.
For the rest of eternity, we now have the ability to pass gas anytime, anywhere, as long as Little E is close by.
Where we once blamed everything on Poodle Yoy, we will now have a more willing blame participant. I mean, he actually admits to it.
Bring on the Varsity hot dogs!
We actually own this book. Shocking, I know.
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