Grandsons to be exact. I have 4 grandsons. A 10yo, a 12yo and twins going on 4yo.
They are here. The older 2 live with their mom, here. The twins are here part of everyday.
Why do boys have to fart so much?
And laugh, omg. It’s just so funny. Somehow.
Now look, we cut out adult swearing because the littles were picking it up. Now we gotta unteach farting before school starts next week. I think it’s not something we can fix this late.
I assume the older 2 know not to do it in certain social situations. But I’m not placing wagers on it.
The babies tho’.
I see social outcasts with sad lives.
We just had a talk with them(Well, I stood silenty by) and their Dad, my son walks in and farts really big and just cracks the whole place up feigning embarrassment.
Heh. I was in a summer theatre production of 12 Angry Men some years ago. There was a cast of 13 men (the 12 jurors plus the bailiff), and the director was a woman. She was interviewed by the local paper about what it was like to be a woman directing an all-male cast.
“It’s interesting. Conversations in the dressing room tend to centre around cars, sports, women, and fart jokes.”
I see the most popular kids in their respective classes! Anybody who is or ever was a boy will tell you that farts are inherently funny. As are fart jokes. And when a buddy accidentally sharts when he meant to fart? Hilarious.
With the boys(and men )bodily noisy-ness and dogs emanations and…ok, there are women here with normal biological functions too, this place has a smog level that scares me if an asthmatic happens to come visit.
Once somebody cut a nasty one at the table, and I was accused. I told the family it wasn’t mine, and reminded them that I always took credit for such deeds. I was acquitted, as they knew my testimony to be the truth.
I didn’t learn until I was in my thirties that not every boy appreciates the bonding that farts facilitate. I managed a software development team and went to the door of one of my guys, he looked up, I smiled, turned around and let him have it. He didn’t react well. Now I’m more careful.
This is one of the harder things about having a boy, for me. I don’t like to talk about such things. The kid is super interested in poop - though to my relief, this interest seems to be waning. I think it’s developmentally normal. We’re candid about everything else. But I get embarrassed at the mere mention of bodily fluids. I’d rather just pretend these things don’t happen. I have a hard time in public bathrooms.
My Son* says “the marriage doesn’t start til both parties have dealt and smelt…”
I still think we oughta try to limit these discussions and noises they come from to more appropriate times. I do secretly laugh from the other room when I hear the kids carrying on about it.
Grandkids are especially funny to me. ‘Cause Mom Francis has lightened up into Granny Gump, who’s a bit odd, anywhoo.
A favorite joke of our youngest, who, at 31 is not now nor has never been a little boy:
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A young man is invited to visit with his girlfriend’s family for the first time. He desperately wants to make a good impression, and is understandably nervous to the point that his stomach is tied in knots. GF introduces him around, and GF’s mom invites him to sit, and when he does, the family dog, Roscoe, settles down at his feet. Our hero takes this as a good sign: Roscoe seems to be comfortable with him, so maybe he can parlay that into goodwill with rest of the family. Unfortunately, his nervousness is still running high, and he feels the need to let one out. He thinks he can sneak it out quietly, but it turns out to be not quite as quiet as he had hoped, and it seems that the family heard it, too.
“ROSCOE!” the GF’s father hollers. The dog lifts his head, but since the BF is petting him and scratching his ears, Roscoe just settles back down. The BF is somewhat relieved: They think the dog did it! He relaxes a bit, and his sphincter relaxes, too. Another one squeezes out.
“ROSCOE!” the father yells again, but again the dog barely reacts. BF feels sorry that the dog seems to be taking the blame, but better the dog than him. As his mind eases, so does the rest of his body, and he releases the biggest fart yet.
“ROSCOE!” The dad yells once more. “GET AWAY FROM HIM BEFORE HE SHITS ON YOU!”
These days, when I rip a huge one, child #2 will sometimes holler “ROSCOE!”, much to my wife’s chagrin.
)bodily noisy-ness and dogs emanations and…ok, there are women here with normal biological functions too, this place has a smog level that scares me if an asthmatic happens to come visit.
