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Day five of the President's Day Week All Children Left Behind-a-palooza today -- we've all pretty much had it with each other by now. I was in the basement, in a pretty important meeting with work (via the TeeVee), Mr. Z was mainlining some Wii on the first floor and Miss O was upstairs, in her room, doing whatever the shit is she does in her room.
SOMEONE AT WORK:
... And so, we should do this very important thing as soon as--- MISS O (barely audible):
DAD! SOMEONE AT WORK:
... really crucial thing you need to pay attention to-- MISS O (a little less barely audible):
DAAAAAAD!!!! I mute my camera and yell...
ME:
WHAT?! MISS O: (inaudible)
ME:
I CAN'T HEAR YOU!! WHAAAAT?!!! MISS O: (top of her lungs)
I THINK I JUST SHARTED!!!!! ME:
YOU SHARTED?!?!?!! MISS O:
YES, I THINK SO!!!!
ME:
GO CLEAN YOUR BUTT AND CHANGE YOUR UNDERWEAR!!!!! MISS O:
WHERE SHOULD I PUT THE UNDERWEAR? ME:
JUST THROW IT IN THE TUB AND I'LL GET IT LATER!!! MISS O:
THE TUB?! ME:
YES! THE TUB!!! MISS O:
OKAY!!!!! Apparently, she sharted and was wondering what to do with her underwear.
After my meeting ended, I ran upstairs to ask her what the shit was going on. She told me that as she was reaching up to a high shelf to retrieve some Polly Pocket clothes, she did "three farts that felt kinda wet." She then told me that she "got a little shart on her finger" when she checked to see if, indeed, 'twas a shart.
I asked her if she washed her hands. She said "yes." I asked her if she washed her hands REALLY well. She said, "yes." I asked if she used soap. She said, "duh!" Then I told her not to fart for the rest of the day. She said, "I'll try."
Please don't let tomorrow be a snow day.

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