Death By Arm Farts

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The kids went to an awesome summer camp program this year at their school.  Any kids from the school from PreK through 6th grade were able to go and it was a God send for us since no other camp in the area took kids the Bean’s age for a full day.  The kids absolutely loved it and were known to cry when I showed up to get them at the end of every day.  Part of the reason they loved camp was the mix of ages. The older kids were amazing with the little kids and it made my heart happy daily to see them all playing.

But, being around older kids had a few drawbacks.  Like the addition of the word “wiener” into our daily vocabulary. I could have lived without that one.  But the one thing that kills me is that the older kids taught Scorch how to make fart noises using his arm pits.  So, naturally, he does it all. the. time.  We had to have an honest-to God, sit-down-on-the-couch-and-look-at-me discussion about where and when it was appropriate to make those noises.  Church, the library, the dinner table, Grandparents house- no. Outside, during camp if allowed- ok.   I can’t tell you how many shirts the boy has stretched out fine tuning his craft.

But we hit a new low this week as the Bean also mastered this trick.  To hear Scorch try to teach her the proper technique and cheer her on when she finally nailed it you would have thought he was training her for an Olympic event. “You can do it! Good try, baby girl! Try moving your hand a little bit that way and try it. Good- now bring your arm down harder.”

I’m giving you all fair warning now, if I die in the next few weeks it’s going to be the arm farts that did me in.

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About Heather

I am the lucky mom to two kids. Scorch is my baseball obsessed 9 year old son and Bean is my crazy, loving 7 year old little girl. I'm happily married to the Hubs. We live in the middle of nowhere with two cats and one certifiably crazy dog.

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