I was having a great time playing with The Princess the other day when I picked her up over my shoulder like the old "fireman's carry" and spun her around and around to the cheerful giggles and chants of "more daddy, more", "faster daddy, faster". We giggled and laughed with abandon until suddenly, without warning the frivolity was shattered by the sound of escaping gasses!
EEEK! Now when I say leaking gas I'm not talking about a little girl "poot", done, NO! I'm talking, "LOOK OUT, THE PROPANE TANK IS LEAKING AND IT'S GONNA BLOW!" The Hiss was audible for miles! It came whisteling out of that little rump with a sickening phhhhhffffft that made my knees buckle and my head spin....it was simply stunning. Unfortunately, when you have a small child folded in half over your shoulder this strategically and tragically places her cute little fanny within inches of your olfactory ducts.
Okay, I will admit to the occasional "unintentional" discharge of gasses but WOW!
It brought me to tears! That's my little trucker butt! Got daddy right in the shnoz with both barrels.
My loving wife just looked on, unamused and unimpressed, and stated in her best YOU HAD THAT ONE COMIN' voice, "That's YOUR little girl, JUST LIKE HER DADDY!" Gee, thanks!
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