I blame him

Sometimes Raoul and I will eat dinner at 8 just so we can eat alone, without kids, and fart noises, and arguing over who's spot at the table is better. Tonight, while eating our dinner Raoul told me something about my little P that made me bow my head in shame. Actually, it made me think "hah! That will make a great blog post." But you get the idea.

A few weeks ago, P and her brownie troop went to the Humane Society to look at kittens and find out what they do there. As a thank you for letting the girls backstage, the troop was coloring pictures to send to the society.

Apparently, my precious little Tweedle P drew a dog. Innocent enought right? I mean, we have a dog that we adopted so it makes sense that she would draw one. However, she didn't just draw a dog. She drew a dog with a little bubble on it's backside. Written by the bubble was "fart". Yup, fart. I guess I can understand because Chicken Shit does have a lot of gas. But, I thought she would have enough common sense to know farts do not belong on a thank you card. Okay, that may not be true. Sometimes farts belong on a thank you card but not on a card coming from a brownie troop.

Just for the record, I blame Raoul. Why? Not sure. He is a guy and farting is a guy thing so, yeah, I blame him.