As a young father, I had sons. They were fun and funny and farty. Boys are rude, crude and socially unacceptable. When my youngest son let one rip in a family restaurant (I won’t tell you the name but it rhymes with HappleKnees), my wife was embarrassed and wanted to crawl under the table. I was ashamed as well but for different reasons. He was capable of so much more than that little toot. As I prepared the chastise him for being such an underachiever, a strange green mist enveloped the table. He ruined dinner for everyone in that section of the restaurant. I was so proud.
Many years later I joined a blended family. I got another son and a daughter. I know about sons but have no clue about daughters. Do you play with Barbie dolls and have tea parties? What kind of clothing do you buy them? Can we fart around them?
Little did I know that girls are just a gross and crude as boys. Before my daughter was my daughter, she brought a tear to my eye within a month of meeting her. She looks so sweet and innocent. Looks can be very deceiving. That petite little girl is silent but deadly when it comes to gaseous generation. She walked up beside me, dropped a stink bomb and walked away giggling. After running from the female-infused fumes, I went straight to the kitchen and promptly ate five cans of Hormel Extra-Bean Chili. Within an hour, I was loaded for bear. I mean it. I could have taken out a bear with that many beans in my belly. I caught up to her and unleashed the fury of the fatherly farts. Sadly, she ate one bean and totally devastated me.
My wife was originally worried that our daughter’s unladly-like behavior would drive me away. Little did she know that I don’t walk away that easily. My wife is amazing, gorgeous and loving. Plus, I didn’t fire the first shot in the chemical war but I will one-day fire the last. She has to get married someday. I plan on eating black beans and rice, boiled cabbage and lots of beer the night before the wedding. I plan to bribe the minister to ask the out-of-vogue question: Are there any objections. I plan to shatter the wine glasses with my revenge.