Stinkerbell

Years from now, the bug will likely be either angry, embarrassed, or a mixture of both, that I chronicled her flatulence publicly and online.

For now, it's fine.  I can only hope she'll realize that she was only five months old at the time and be able to forgive me.

She's been doing really well eating her gruel.  Only, not much is happening on the other end.  Wifey and I are hard pressed to recall any blowouts in the last couple of days.

You see, the whistle's blowing, but the train hasn't pulled into the station.

Having worked out in the rain and cold for a bit this weekend and slept in dry heat, I'm not getting the full effect of any smells.  However, it's been described to me as cream cheese that's gone bad.

Now that Tuesday's here and I'll be on bug duty for the rest of the week, I know what I have to look forward to.  I've been advised that I may want to have a magazine handy.  (and I can imagine needing washcloths... maybe even the bathtub.)

Speaking of having a gas, we've expanded our repertoire of noises, faces, and actions that really crack up the bug.  The little girl loves to laugh.  Which makes me laugh.  Which makes her laugh.  It's a self-perpetuating cycle until she runs out of gas and needs to sleep.