Tooting contest.

Unfortunately this contest did not involve trains or tugboats or anything like that which normally are described as making a "tooting" noise. No, as a matter of fact, this contest involved our innocent-looking little girls and their inherited genetic disposition for being able to outwardly express and share their natural body functions on demand.

It wasn't bad enough that I had to grow up with this and find myself subjected to moments of "pull my finger" and "get a load of this!" or the all-to-familiar, generate-a-blast-on-someone-else-for-a-laugh, and to now find myself flashing back to my childhood through my kids.

As many of you know, Laney is quite generous when it comes to this aspect of sharing with the rest of the family, so a couple of nights ago, during dinner mind you, she starts farting away. (Just for an added effect, I should mention that we have wooden stools that we sit on, so that made it even more entertaining.) I decided to remind her that it wasn't polite to do that at the table and asked her to please take it to the bathroom. Well, if you've been in our house, the bathroom is right off the kitchen, so she proceeded to make trip after trip to the bathroom to "toot".

So last night, Faith decided it was her turn, and as she ran back and forth, she managed to catch the entire family's attention by belting out some whoppers that sounded like they were produced by a 250-pound full-grown man, and not a 30-pound 4-year-old little girl. As the amazement and laughter generated from the kitchen (mind you that the door was closed each time) she came to the conclusion that she was accomplishing something Laney didn't the night before. Therefore, every time she went to close the door to the bathroom to pass gas, she would holler out with a huge grin, "Tooting contest!", and as Jason commented that we wouldn't let her live this down when she was a teenager, I knew that it was something I needed to blog in case my memory fails me.