My 3 year old crawled up next to me on the couch. He had his favorite blanket with him and asked me if we could cuddle.
“Cuddle me, Mommy?”
I said “Sure!”
Because how could I deny my sweet D-man?
Then I realized his adorable sweetness hid a truly devious plan.
You see, I thought we were sharing a sweet moment. A Hallmark moment. The kind pictured in commercials, in magazine spreads and all things that make us mere mortals feel like we will never be perfect mothers because our moments NEVER look like those moments!!! And I thought…aha! I have done it, I am having finally having that moment. The perfect motherhood moment.
But as we cuddled under the blanket it became clear to me this was no glossy layout moment with manufactured mothering perfection. No, it was real motherhood. Because he began to, hmm, how to put this delicately? Well, there is no delicate way to say it.
He began to let ‘em rip.
Yes, he began to pass the worst gas possible next to me. Not once. Not even twice. But multiple times. Worse still. Each time he did it, he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed some more. He had a twinkle in his eye the whole time.
Oh, man it was gross.
So totally gross.
But I must admit I couldn’t help but laugh. It was gross, it was not a perfect Hallmark moment but dang that kid is something else. He can make even the grossest thing in the world make me laugh.
Yep, he still knows where the money is at. It is in the poop & fart jokes.