Ya Know What's Funny?? Arm-Farts.

Yes, I did say arm-farts.

Apparently, Miss Thing, who has made it these past 9 years without the knowledge of knowing how to prefect the art of Arm-Farting, hit her stride last night. She had been in the shower a VERY long time. I assume nothing about this. I ask nothing about this. I just hope that whatever parts of her needed to be washed ARE in fact washed. They always seem to be. On her grand departure from the bathroom, I watch her pass by my open office door. Regally strolling by, towel loosely gathered around her, draping on the ground like a cape, hair soaked and sticking to her face and back, a mischievous grin on her face.

I look at her and think, "My God she is growing up so fast. She is nearly a teenager. She is so beautiful."

I must have had a glazed over look in my eyes, not really focused on her per se, more staring in her direction.

And that's when she let loose her new found talent. A cacophony of arm-farts to bring down the house - followed by the most hysterical laughter you have ever heard. Pttpf, Pttpf, Pttpf, Pttpf, Pttpf!

The kind of laughter you really can't help but join in with. Try as I might - I could not keep a straight face. I started cracking up. And I continued to crack up every time I heard it. Like when she closed her door to get dressed, when she ran down the hall to show her father and his laughter over hers, when I heard her brother proclaiming that he JUST DID NOT KNOW HOW TO DO IT, and her patiently trying to show him. Each and every time - I laughed.

Childish, I know. Hilarious - most definitely.

I warned her not to do it at school - because she raises her shirt half way up to get a good grip. She was so disappointed. I hoped the new day would come and she would have moved onto the next thing. I decided to not mention it again. She is a girlie-girl after all.

I walked by her bathroom this morning - and there she was sleepy faced, yawning, sitting on the thrown clearly just sitting there swinging her feet.

"Good Morning Sweetie." A usual ritual.

"Morning." Quietly. She's tired.

I pass by and continue my way towards the stairs when I hear it.

Pttpf!

And then hysterical laughter - hers and mine.

God, I love that kid! In case you have no idea what I'm talking about - you can get instructions here or here.